Song of Myself
by Archer the Undreamed
Summary: Alistair almost dies in the Circle Tower fighting demons, and ends up unwillingly possessed by an equally reluctant spirit of the Fade. Together, they might just get this Blight junk figured out.
1. Chapter 1

The Fade rippled again, and the spirit curiously peered around to see the nature of the disturbance. The Fade had been changing for some time now, the dream-walkers comings and goings warping it irrevocably.

The dream-walkers were the best part of the Fade. She could hardly remember what it felt like to walk in a body of flesh, but through the dreamers she retained the little bit of herself thousands of years of death had left her.

When she had come to the Fade, it seemed… newer, blanker looking. The dreamers were like whispers of the life she once possessed, not people she could talk to and almost- but never actually- touch. But time changes all things, and so the Fade had evolved to accommodate the beings that now walked the earth. (Earth, she knew, with a capital E, but did not remember how she knew it, or what that really meant anymore.) Some of them now possessed magic, of all things, and she had always crept close to the walkers that had it, reveled in their glory from a safe distance.

When the magic users came, the Fade changed again, to something she found more appealing. The white wispiness became solid, and they kindly erected beautiful buildings and statues. She noted that few of the relics from her time had survived, with a detached sadness. Perhaps it was better that the dreamers knew nothing of Jackson Pollock, but it was a shame to leave so many other things behind.

She liked the first dreamers, they were so curious about the Fade and its occupants. She even occasionally talked to them, left them things she remembered, too. She remembered so little now, it seemed, but more and more came back when she tried. She left a statue of David for them to find, and was elated to see that many dreamers studied it intensely.

They told her things, whispers of the new world beyond. It seemed that much was different, now. There were new races, not dictated by skin color, but by other differentiating factors. There were elves, and dwarves, like in tales in her life long past. There was also a race the dreamers called "Qunari", which she immediately associated to the Uruk-hai of a tale she'd mostly forgotten.

When she finally found a Qunari, she could not contain her excitement. He was majestic, with long, curved horns and tall stature. He'd refused to speak with her, and associated her with what he called "demons of the Fade", but she couldn't hold that against him. It was entirely understandable to be cautious here.

It was true, there were spirits here that were less benevolent than one would hope. In truth, they had been people once, too. Everyone here was, at one point or another. But some had taken death… badly, for lack of a better word. With time, they devolved into their most base emotions, namely rage, or tried to strike underhanded deals with the dream-walkers for a chance to walk among the living again. Of course, what the walkers failed to comprehend was that the spirits meant for a rather permanent exchange, and were cast into the Fade in death as a result. They, in turn, became embittered with their unfortunate (but, she had to admit, self-inflicted) demises, and continued the process. The particularly charming ones had taken to appealing to more sophisticated methods of deception, and preyed on the dream-walkers with great ambitions and egos.

Those spirits had eventually become embodiments of desire, and pride. The sloth demons (and it still felt odd to call them that, not so long ago they had names and hopes and dreams of their own) had evolved as well, but were somewhat less likely to interfere with the dreamers, if only because they were so intent upon sleeping.

Her world had changed, and she felt misplaced in it.

To be sure, other spirits (more valiant ones, kinder ones, the people she liked to be with but had never been one herself) had taken it upon themselves to shelter the dream-walkers, to watch over them in the Fade, and save them from themselves. They became spirits known as Compassion, Justice, and various others.

Not all spirits had a purpose, however. Some, like her, walked the line between antagonist and kindly guide. She preferred her relative quiet, and basked in it. It had been hard, to make those dream-friends, and watch them crumble away into nothingness. So many had fallen prey to the earliest machinations of the demons that she hadn't known to save them from until it was too late.

When the demon- spirits had shown themselves changed, she had already known there was something wrong. The former palaces her dream-friends had built had grown blacked tendrils, which crept up and swallowed everything in sight. She had been dead thousands of years, but it had HURT to touch them, like they had bit straight into her very being.

The new dreamers called it "The Black City", and she would tend to agree. The beauty and purity of that time were lost past now, the statues and buildings swallowed up and perverted into mockeries of their former selves.

After that, she had lost much interest in the dream-walkers. They came and went, but she rarely made herself known to them anymore. They would perish, too, she knew, and she was tired of the heartbreak that accompanied their inevitable downfall.

So she waited in the outer reaches of the Fade, and gazed out to the Black City, and thought about what might have been.

* * *

The spirit was disturbed, to say the least. Dream-walkers were disappearing at an alarming rate, and not reappearing. If they were not dreaming, and not dead, where were they going? A boy she had watched grow up from a tiny babe had vanished yesterday, but was not dead. If he had died, he would have made himself known as a spirit, and she had checked for him. He had been worried for his Harrowing, or so he said, and she had heard him sputter in his sleep of fears for becoming a "tranquil". She didn't know what that noun was, she had always thought that word meant "peaceful", but he didn't seem to think that was apt.

And now he was gone. She wrung ethereal hands, but stayed in the same place. If he came back, she had to know, and he always came back here. If he wasn't here within two night-cycles, she would contact another spirit. Someone had to know what was going on, didn't they?

* * *

Two night-cycles, and the boy had neither dreamt, nor shown himself as a spirit. The other dreamers from his homeland had come and gone, and left her feeling despondent.

None of the other spirits knew what was happening, either, but were content in their ignorance. They felt that what was happening in the land of the living was none of their concern. Hell to them, there was obviously something very, very wrong, and she had never been interested in backing down from uncomfortable knowledge.

Were the dream-walkers avoiding them? Or were they doing something else after dying?

…Worse, were the demons finding a way to confront and seduce them outside of the bonds of the Fade?

The dream-walkers had become even more skittish in the years since her self-enforced seclusion. They shied away from her in droves, thinking her to be a demon of massive cunning to appear so unassuming.

But if the spirits didn't know, and the dreamers wouldn't answer…

There was nothing for it. She would have to ask a demon.

The demons of rage and sloth were worse than useless, and she utterly ignored them. At best, they would either scream or yawn at her, and she had no time to waste for them, even though her time was worthless.

She finally found a demon of desire attempting to lure a young elven woman, and abruptly shoved her out of the way.

"Run along," she commanded, pointing off into the distance, "and do not be fool enough to talk with demons. Dream elsewhere, girl, and pray I do not find you in such a situation again."

The woman nodded, if a bit dumbly, and scrambled off into the ether. The desire demon pouted, and crossed her arms under her ample bosom, pushing them up in a teasing manner. The spirit rolled her eyes, but rounded on the demon anyway.

"My, my, that was rude." The demon crooned, and lifted a hand up to gently touch the spirit's cheek. "I don't suppose you have any reason to come barging over here, and scaring away my nice new friend?"

The spirit momentarily started at the sensation of being touched, but tried not to show it. She refocused, and glared down the demon.

"Yes. I have a question for you, demon. Dreamers are disappearing, do you know why?"

The demon looked startled, but chuckled after a moment. "Usually, you spirits aren't concerned about what happens outside of the Fade. Are you thinking about becoming one of us, little spirit?" The demon moved back to trace the spirit's cheekbone, but this time the spirit was less than amused. She brushed away the demon's foul hand, and pushed her back.

"My reasons are my own. Do you know why, or not?" she growled. The sooner this unpleasantness was over with, the better.

The demon smiled seductively, and preened. "Why, yes, I do. It seems that some people are taking offense to the mages. They have come up with something that cuts them off to the Fade entirely, they call it being 'made Tranquil'."

That was somehow even worse than she'd feared. "How can they do that?" she gasped quietly, and the demon took the opportunity to close the distance between them, and gently touched her arm.

"The powerful do as they like, little spirit, you know that." The demon purred, running her hand down the spirit's arm, and then up back to her face. The demon leaned in closer to her ear, and whispered, "You could do as you like there if you follow me, little spirit. I can give you what you most desire, all the knowledge of the mortals, and power enough to keep you sated. What say you?"

The spirit had only been half listening, being rather occupied with a copious amount of horror. She didn't even register the demon's offer, and extricated herself from its grasp with nary a thought to it. She left the demon pouting in that part of the Fade, and went back to occupy her usual territories and ponder.

* * *

The knowledge that the magic-users were being lobotomized would have made her nauseous, if she had the body necessary to do so. It haunted her now every time she found a dreamer in the Fade. Would they come here again? What were they like, once they were cut off from the Fade entirely?

She had never been magical herself (in life, at least, millennia in the Fade had provided her with some interesting abilities she'd never been afforded before) and neither had anyone else of her world. She'd found it odd when she found herself here after dying, because she had never believed in any religion whatsoever. So she had to have something, to be here. Was it a soul? Were people taking souls away from others because they had magic? What could possibly justify such a heinous punishment?

And worse, how would one even accomplish that? Even the worst sorts of people ended up in the Fade, so it couldn't be that being immoral cost them their soul, for lack of a better word. Or maybe, their souls hadn't been banished, but trapped. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

It was with a newfound sympathy that she viewed the magic-users. Other dream-walkers filled her with suspicion. Was that one who took a little boy's soul away? Would that woman over there have allowed that to be done?

The world had never been uncomplicated, but she felt a weariness in herself that had not been there previously. Once again, she longed for the Fade as the first mages had made it, gleaming golden and pristine.

* * *

She first knew that something was very wrong when another spirit approached her. Spirits tended to keep their own counsel, even those that had taken up mantles of virtues, so that was odd in itself. But the Spirit of Justice had seemed even grimmer than she'd remembered it being, so she straightened herself and looked him in the eye.

"Have you noticed that many demons have disappeared very recently in this area?" He asked her seriously, and she felt her eyes widen in panic. Demons did not "disappear". If they were gone from the Fade, they had either been destroyed (which was exceedingly rare), or they had been summoned to Earth.

She'd bet her ethereal pinky on the latter.

"No, I hadn't." She replied honestly. It was rare for her to note the dreamers or demons roaming the Fade, as she kept herself purposefully secluded.

The spirit of Justice nodded. "There are dozens, if not more, demons that are unaccounted for in this area of the Fade. At least one pride demon, several desire demons, and one very powerful sloth demon have been noted missing in particular. If you find word of them, please notify another spirit, as it is best we all know their whereabouts."

Oh, god. And he didn't even mention how many rage demons were "unaccounted for." Even one of those was enough to tear many living apart, not to mention the more powerful demons he'd mentioned.

But who was strong (and monumentally stupid) enough to summon them all at once? It was too much a coincidence to assume these disappearances were unrelated. There hadn't been such a mass disappearance since the corruption of the Black City.

She shuddered, and the spirit of Justice placed a steady hand upon her shoulder.

"I do not mean to startle you, kind spirit, but another spirit has also gone missing. A spirit of Faith, as it were. So be on your guard."

She nodded, and turned back towards the Black City as Justice marched away and faded into the mist.

The spirit noticed then, in the distance, a dreamer. He was on the ground, and seemed to be flickering in and out of the Fade.

She went to him quickly, and placed a hesitant hand upon his back. He was breathing heavily, and continued to disappear and reappear under her very hand. He wasn't dying, but something was going wrong.

"Do you need help?" she asked awkwardly, patting his shoulder.

The young man groaned on the ground. She noted that he was very heavily armoured, and seemed to be in a great deal of pain.

She wasn't sure what was wrong, however. She turned him gently onto his side, and then it became all too obvious.

"Demonic burns," she breathed, and reached out to pull the tendrils out of his chest. They would have sucked him dry of life and blood, it was unlikely that he was in the company of a spirit healer. While she was working, he seemed to regain a bit of lucidity.

"Are you a demon?" he demanded, trying to pull away from her, but she smacked his head impatiently with one hand and kept pulling the remnants of demonic energy out of him with the other.

"Do I look like one?" she retorted, momentarily wondering why she ever did anything nice for the living. "I could just let the demon who stuck you bleed you dry, if you like. If not, hold still, I am not a patient spirit."

He obligingly quit moving, evidently temporarily cowed. After a moment, she sighed.

"What is your name, dream-walker?"

He blinked a few times, before deciding to answer. "Alistair." He said begrudgingly, "My name is Alistair."

"Nice name," she said offhand, "and what, Alistair, were you doing to get a demon to foul you up like this?"

Alistair grimaced (which was actually kind of cute, she noted).

"I suppose they may have been somewhat offended that I crashed their party," he joked. "Did you know they consider it rude to come barging in, sword swinging, and try to take their guests?"

"You were trying to kill them?" she asked, amused. This mortal seemed to have a nice sense of humor, and a spine to match. If he didn't die horribly, he might be fine to keep an eye on.

"I wasn't trying, I was actually doing a pretty good job of it." Alistair corrected proudly. "I'll have you know I thumped five rage demons before breakfast this morning."

She made the appropriate impressed noise, while she continued to work. "So all those demons really did get summoned, then?"

He nodded, suddenly serious. "There are some blood mages who summoned them into a Circle Tower. It's… not pretty down there."

"I'm not familiar with either of those terms." She admitted freely. "Blood mages, or a Circle Tower."

He seemed amused by that. "You are the worst demon, you know. Aren't you supposed to already know everything, and offer me whatever I want in return for all the kittens in Highever or something?"

"Whatever would I do with kittens, Alistair?" she asked, and he only answered her with a snort. She tried not to look offended, but he obviously saw through it immediately.

"You aren't really a demon at all, are you."

"You didn't even make that a question, but no. I am not." Finishing with the last of the demonic tendrils, and healing up the wound, she sat back and admired her work.

"So, am I going to wake up, or am I dead?" Alistair asking, poking his chest where the infected-looking tendrils had once resided.

She shrugged, and dully noted that he had begun to fade out of existence again. He wasn't dead, but his spirit was no longer in danger, so he would soon return to the land of the living. He would be weak for a time, but he would live.

But before he entirely blinked out of the Fade, she felt a strange and powerful tug on her being. She tried to claw at the ground of the Fade, to grab onto anything at all, but there was nothing to grab.

* * *

A multitude of things assaulted her senses all at once. Why was there so much noise? And for that matter, why was everything so bright?

"Alistair?" A panicked voice called from her right, and she tried to move her (suddenly, so heavy) head to tell them he was perfectly fine, and to please stop yelling in her ears, when realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Alistair had, however inadvertently, dragged her back into the living world with him.

A wary glance downward, and she realized the situation was even worse than she thought. She was occupying his body. _'Alistair?'_ she thought, very panicked. _'Please, please tell me you're in here.'_

Shock permeated his form, and she realized he was. Luckily, he still seemed to be somewhat aware of his body, though she temporarily had physical control. _'Thank god,'_ she thought, _'I really don't want to be you forever.'_

He seemed insulted.

_'Not that you aren't a very nice young man,'_ she apologized quickly, _'but I didn't intend to get pulled along for the ride at all, and I haven't been outside the Fade for thousands of years. I've been dead a long time, Alistair. It's… a bit scary, to be honest.'_

Now, he seemed approving, if worried. Weakly, he thought back to her, _'Will I get control of my body back eventually? I mean, I'm not stuck here, watching you take my body on a joyride, am I?'_

_'I think so,'_ she guessed, _'though I can't be sure. There isn't really a precedence I know of for this. I think maybe since you were so weakened temporarily, you unintentionally brought me here to cling to my power, and until you're well enough to take control again, I am running the majority of your body for you. Hopefully I'll be able to go back into the Fade after that.'_

Alistair was obviously trying to think, but was receding into the depths of his mind. He was far too weak right now to operate, and she berated herself for not realizing what would happen in that circumstance. Of course a mortal would cling to her energy to keep them alive, when the alternative was essentially a coma and possible death. He couldn't have hoped to keep going on his own in the shape he was in.

Still, she couldn't bring herself to regret saving his life. He seemed like a very nice man, and he'd only been courteous once he'd realized she wasn't a demon. If all she had to do was keep him from dying for a few days until he was well enough to take control again, it was a small price to pay. It wasn't as if she had a pressing appointment in the Fade to keep, after all.

"Alistair?" A voice called again from the world of the living, and the spirit forced herself to the forefront of Alistair's body, finding his vocal chords hoarse and scratchy feeling.

"Yes?" she responded, feeling like an extraordinary fool. Her vision focused, and she found a pleasant-looking older woman staring at her in concern. She vaguely remembered that the woman was a mage she'd seen wandering the Fade before, with a spirit of Faith always close behind.

Wait… of course. If it had happened to her, why not another spirit? And judging by the weariness behind the woman's eyes, she had been in even worse shape than poor Alistair. Whatever situation this Circle Tower was in must be catastrophic.

"I thought we almost lost you," the woman (Wanda? Lynn?... no, Wynne, yes, that) sighed, relieved, and ruffled Alistair's hair.

Which felt amazing, by the way. She'd forgotten how many senses she'd lost as a spirit.

"Are you well enough to stand, Alistair?" another woman asked, concerned. The spirit shuffled through Alistair's memories, and found her to be a Grey Warden, a friend, a companion. What was her name? Ah, Elissa. "We really need to keep moving, this place is still very dangerous."

The spirit nodded Alistair's heavy head, and took a hand that was offered to pull herself up. This body was thick and heavy, and every movement felt like she was pulling herself through mud. Of course, she'd been without weight or substance for so long that that was to be expected, she supposed. She laboriously reminded herself how to walk properly, and followed the large group through the halls.

Luckily, no one seemed to expect Alistair to be in any condition to fight right now, or she may have been in trouble. His body moved without her to lift up his shield, but she didn't trust herself to wield his sword with any effect. She might hurt him (or worse, one of his companions) by accident, and she didn't want that.

She followed them awkwardly through a few more rooms, while she rifled through Alistair's memories to glean the information she needed. At least she knew what this Circle Tower was now, and Blood Mages. That Alistair was trained as a Templar was interesting, once she managed to put his memories of that into context with his current situation. He would have been very useful indeed, to suppress these demons. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure how to access those powers, or even if she could, as a spirit of the Fade herself.

Hopefully, once she left, he'd still be able to use them. She'd hate to think that she inadvertently did him irreparable damage in her unwilling possession.

* * *

They had reached a stairwell (yet again, how many floors did this damnable Tower even have?), when she noticed a stifling wrongness in the air.

"Everyone, stay back!" she tried to order, but the words seemed to fall on deaf ears even as the Grey Warden Elissa threw open the doors.

A pit settled in her stomach as she recognized the demonic corruption in the room, and the unmistakable form of a sloth demon.

Then, suddenly, Alistair's presence was falling away from her as the demon talked, and she was trying frantically to hold him back, to keep him with her. _'You can't go to the Fade, please!_' she pleaded, but Alistair wasn't in any position to hear her, let alone fight a demon's influence. _'You're too weak right now, you won't last!'_

But he was gone, and she was left alone, as the other members of his party collapsed to the ground around her with dull thuds.

"Why won't you sleep?" the sloth demon suggested, rather perplexed. "Aren't you tired?"

She gritted Alistair's teeth, and raised his sword and shield angrily. "I am not a mortal, demon, and you have just made a very large mistake."

It cocked its head, uncomprehending, and that was all the time it took for her to close the gap and cut him deeply. It was hard to control Alistair's body, but she had managed to gain the advantage.

The sloth demon swiped at her, but Alistair's impeccable reflexes (and she intended to tell him so later) kicked in, and his shield raised up in front to catch his claws. She pushed the shield forward into its torso, and forced it backwards, while she turned to slice at it again with Alistair's sword.

The demon was far too slow to counter, and she tore his left arm at the shoulder clean off.

She needed to finish this quickly. Alistair wouldn't survive long without his body at all. And the longer she left his companions here, the more likely that they would be seduced by another demon or drained utterly. She brought the shield arm up again, and bashed the demon twice in the head, thanking Alistair's considerable height for that advantage.

The sloth demon seemed to be properly stunned, so she lowered the shield just long enough to make a killing blow to the neck.

The sword struck true, and clove through the demon's neck. Even though there was considerable resistance, the spirit had to admit she was impressed with Alistair's strength. He really might be a mortal worth watching out for from now on, she mused, as she blankly wiped the black blood from the demon onto a nearby tapestry. Metal could rust, yes? It seemed prudent to care for Alistair's things while he was otherwise occupied.

It was an awkward battle, and ultimately longer than she would have liked, but it was over. Hopefully, with the demon dead, Alistair and his companions would be able to find their ways back to the land of the living much faster.

Ten or so panicked minutes later, the Qunari, Sten, shifted on the floor. Then Elissa, and Wynne, and Leliana. The other witch, Morrigan, got up with little trouble, and eyed her suspiciously. The spirit glared back, and the witch looked away. Then, with palpable relief, she felt Alistair's presence reappear.

_'Are you all right?_' she demanded.

He seemed pleased that she asked, and more than a bit smug. _'I didn't make any demony friends while I was away, if that's what you're asking. Though they did try, I'll admit. But once Elissa found her way to me, we didn't have any problems finding our way out of the Fade this time, even though she said it was a sloth demon's realm. I take it that was your doing?'_

She wasn't going to try to deny it, so she looked over to the sloth demon's remains so he could see them for himself.

Alistair whistled. _'You did all that for me? I must be the most special boy in the whole wide Fade.'_

_'I just thought you'd make an awful spirit.'_ She retorted genially, _'You'd try to become a spirit of 'Truthiness' or something else utterly ridiculous. And if you died, I'd never get rid of you.'_

'_You've got me there.'_ Alistair chuckled warmly. _'I have always felt especially inclined towards 'Truthiness'. And how could I possibly leave such a sweet lady spirit unchaperoned? What kind of knight in shining armor would I be?'_

At that, he paused, seemingly hesitating. _'… You are a lady, right?'_ he asked cautiously.

She almost laughed.

_'Yes, but I fail to see how that matters. I no longer possess the body that label requires, and haven't for a long time.'_

Alistair seemed somewhat pleased, and she suddenly felt immeasurably guilty for deserting the living for so long. They really weren't as bad as she'd managed to convince herself they were. She was, dare she even think if, enjoying talking with Alistair. She was even somewhat enjoying temporary command of his body, though she realized it would get tedious or awkward very soon, when he had to go to the bathroom or have an intimate moment with a woman she didn't know whatsoever.

_'You go back to sleep.'_ She berated him, though warmly. _'I don't think you want me to be in charge forever, and you're still not ready to take your body back yet.'_

_'Yes, miss.'_ Alistair teased, and she felt him settling in to rest again. _'Just don't make me do anything silly. Or, at least, don't do it in front of Morrigan.'_

With Alistair squarely tucked away into a corner of his mind again, she turned her attention outwards, where the rest of the party was standing up and stretching their legs.

"Who killed the sloth demon?" Elissa asked, puzzling over its corpse.

"Ah, that would be me." The spirit shrugged bashfully, and looked at the ground. "I lunged at it while we were all falling to the ground, but I wasn't sure if that blow actually connected or not, since we still spent some time in the Fade."

Elissa shrugged, and no one seemed to care enough to ask any further questions, though evidently the witch had an insult ready.

"You didn't know you chopped its head clean off? I know you have managed to survive a frighteningly long time without a brain, but most creatures cannot attempt such feats."

The witch was lucky that the spirit was pretending to be Alistair, for she was starting to feel rather defensive of her new friend. The witch was going to need to tread carefully in the Fade from now on, that was for certain. She ignored Morrigan completely, and gestured to the stairs at the other end of the room.

"Shall we?" she asked pointedly, and started moving towards the stairs before anyone had the time to answer.

* * *

A pride abomination was the most hideous thing she'd ever had the misfortune of seeing. Pride demons were never good-looking, by principle, but this abomination was particularly unpleasant. The spikes and bonespurs jutting out at every angle, the tiniest bits of skin and clothing on parts of it, like this man Uldred just exploded into something easily six times his size.

Then again, that's almost exactly what had happened.

The actual battle wasn't so difficult. When Wynne was too occupied to read the Litany of Andralla, the spirit simply used some of her own energy to replicate its effects (and weren't those tricky mortals brilliant, using what was essentially converted spirit energy to wash out demonic influence), washing out the area with cleansing spirit energy.

Luckily, everyone was too busy to really take note of what she was doing, otherwise poor Alistair would be fielding awkward questions later.

Like Wynne had any right to be judging, anyhow. She'd confirmed the presence of a spirit of Faith when Wynne looked to be about to fall, and she'd miraculously (and also unnoticed) recovered entirely and started healing again.

Once the battle was over, she let the other Warden take over. Elissa stood in quiet conference with the First Enchanter and Wynne, before announcing that they were going to go back down the stairs to meet with the Templars.

She followed quietly down the numerous levels to the base of the Tower, and thanked her lucky stars that Alistair was in such good physical condition to do so. His body was injured, and exhausted, to be sure, but still manageable.

The spirit didn't even listen as Elissa extracted her promise from the First Enchanter, Irving, and motioned her entire party out to the waiting boat. Alistair's feet seemed to be made of lead, and the air of molasses as she trudged her way back onto shore and into their camp. She didn't even hardly take off his armor before his body collapsed onto his sleeping bag, and she fell into the first blissful sleep she'd had in thousands of years.


	2. Chapter 2

_'Hey, um, spirit lady?'_

She vaguely registered a familiar voice through her sleep-induced haziness. Yesterday had been weird, no denying it.

_'I don't mean to be a bother.'_

Wait. That was Alistair. She turned around—and a heavy lump of flesh moved with her. That was sufficiently off-putting that she remembered what had happened.

_'Alistair? Shouldn't you have your body back by now?'_

_'Hey now,'_ he laughed, though she thought she sensed hidden tension in the words. _'You're going to hurt my delicate feelings. Is it really so terrible to have to spend a little time with me?'_

_'It's not that,'_ she apologized, feeling as though she was really apologizing for something else entirely. _'I haven't had a body in so long. It's not that yours in specific is off-putting.'_

She opened Alistair's eyes to a riotous mess of light forcing entry to his tent in a beam. She jolted. "That could be weaponised," she hissed, downright shocked at how bright morning was. Daybreak was more intense than anything in the fade.

_'It's like you have a hangover,'_ Alistair commented. _'In any case. Do you have any idea how we're going to set this right?'_

_'I thought that once you were healed, I would just go back to the fade,'_ she admitted rather sheepishly. _'But you seem to be improved, and…'_

_'And here I am, incorporeal,'_ Alistair finished. His words were light, but there was more than an undertone of fear in the words. _'Not to say I don't trust you, of course, since you've been nothing but helpful and good to me, but, well…'_

_'You don't trust me,'_ she supplied good-naturedly. _'I don't blame you. I don't think I would like riding shotgun in my own body, either.'_

_'Riding… what?'_ Alistair seemed absolutely befuddled.

_'Never mind,'_ she reassured. _'I'm going to try to pull myself back to the Fade now, all right? I'm not sure how this will feel for you, or if you'll feel anything at all.'_

_'All right,'_ he agreed uneasily.

She felt out for the connection, the echoing depths of the Fade. They had been so prevalent in the Circle Tower that she had thought it would be easy earlier.

Panic began to set in when she found nothing, and Alistair noticed it.

_'Is everything all right?'_ he asked awkwardly, with obvious fear creeping into his words.

She felt like crying.

_'No.'_ She almost whispered, in the safe confines of Alistair's mind. _'It's not all right at all. I can't feel the Fade, Alistair. I don't know how to break the connection.'_

They each took a long moment to wallow in their despair, and she worried his lip.

_'Hey, now,' _Alistair awkwardly tried to comfort her, but that was somewhat hampered by his inability to make contact with her, still being incorporeal. That just served to remind her yet again of their situation, and she quickly dissolved into a crying, whimpering ball.

_'It will be fine._' Alistair spoke with false confidence, but she had to applaud his effort. She forced herself to quit whimpering in self-pity, and straightened out Alistair's body so he no longer looked like a babbling mental patient.

_'So, what do we do now?'_ Alistair asked, shifting awkwardly. It was an odd feeling, to be one of two entities occupying a single body, she noted with a surreal sort of hysteria. But screaming and crying wasn't going to get her out of this situation, and it certainly wasn't making Alistair any more confident in her abilities. She took a quiet moment to calm her tattered nerves, and then addressed Alistair.

_'Can you control any part of your body at all?_' she queried, mentally compiling a list of potential problems and solutions.

_'Ah, no.'_ Alistair admitted rather sheepishly. _'Though I am starting to notice some – tingling- in my fingers, and toes.'_

_'Maybe you're just realigning with your body, since it doesn't know how to respond to someone else occupying it. It's noticing that I'm not you, and is gradually preparing to dispose of the interloper?' _

If Alistair possessed control of his eyes, he would have rolled them, she was sure.

_'Maybe,'_ he admitted some grudgingly, _'but what happens to you then?'_

No point in sugarcoating it.

_'I don't know.'_

Then, an idea struck her.

_'You know mages, yes? That Wynne lady, and the swamp witch with the awful attitude.'_

Alistair groaned.

_'Did you have to remind me of Morrigan so early in the morning? I think there are laws against that sort of thing.'_

She giggled, despite herself. _'But if they can open a portal to the Fade, I could go back, don't you see?'_

_'No._' Was Alistair's grim answer. _'That would release demons. And, worse yet, I'm not sure that Morrigan would let you go. She's… tricky, like that. She might think you were interesting, or useful.'_

That did sound rather grim.

_'Um, well, you go to the Fade when you dream, right? Even though I don't. So when you do finally get control fully back, or enough to dream, I could slip right through and go back.'_

This seemed much less risky, though she'd still have to continue puppeting poor Alistair's body until he could take over himself.

_'That does sound preferable.'_ Alistair admitted. _'Though I'll admit, I don't miss my dreams. I don't think you'll enjoy them much, either.'_

_'What do you dream of?'_ she asked, curious.

Alistair was being uncharacteristically solemn all of a sudden.

_'Wardens… we don't dream of nice things.'_ Alistair finally grumbled. _'In Blights, like this, we dream of the Archdemon. And most of our dreams are always about darkspawn, in any case.'_

_'Blight?'_ she questioned. She really hadn't had the time to learn everything Alistair knew in the few hours she'd had in the tower.

Alistair took the time to explain darkspawn, the Blight, and the Archdemons, while she lay there and absorbed everything.

_'And so, Grey Wardens stop the Blight?_' she asked, desperately trying to connect all the pieces he'd given her to assemble.

_'Essentially, yes.'_ Alistair tried to shrug, but only made their shoulders tingle.

_'Because of the Taint you take into yourselves, somehow.'_ She mused lazily. There was something not quite right about that story, but she knew Alistair wasn't lying to her.

Maybe he just hadn't been told everything.

It was likely, actually. He hadn't been a Warden long, by his own admission. And the Grey Wardens seemed to love their secrets. Alistair didn't even know how to perform a Joining to recruit more Wardens, even though they were desperately needed.

The question she couldn't shake, is why were the Wardens needed?

That they could sense the darkspawn was useful, yes, but not really world-turning. Good scouting parties could accomplish much the same thing, and Alistair didn't give her the impression that Wardens were meant to be separated just to serve as darkspawn radar.

Whatever the answer was, Alistair didn't know it, so she let the subject drop.

_'Spirit?' _

Alistair jolted her out of her musings somewhat abruptly, and she twitched, taking his whole body along for the ride.

_'Yes?'_ She asked weakly, more than a bit embarrassed. What kind of spirit was she?

_'What do I call you? 'Spirit' just sounds so impersonal, you know. Do you have a name?'_

Oh. This was awkward. What had her name been? It had been so long ago since anyone had needed to use it, and such things did not matter in the Fade.

_'I do, but I don't remember it.' _She admitted. She must be the world's greatest moron. Who forgot their name?

_'That won't do.'_ Alistair stated authoritatively. _'We'll just have to think up a new name for you.'_ And though she was incredibly embarrassed, she was glad that Alistair had at least found something to occupy himself for the time being. It was disheartening to for him to be depressed, and she didn't like it.

_'Hannah?'_

She grimaced.

_'No, too plain. Yevena? No, that was a name of a demon we saw in the Fade. I know, Elissa! … No, that's Elissa's name.'_

Alistair continued to muse, and she smiled.

_'Well, you should get dressed and help clean up camp.' _Alistair suddenly switched gears, and she jolted a bit at the sudden change. _'They know I was injured yesterday, but the Blight waits for no one.'_

He paused, seeming to think.

_'Except the Archdemon, I suppose.'_ He amended. _'They wait for one of those. Otherwise the darkspawn apparently just prowl around the Deep Roads, happy to feast on giant spiders and, I dunno, go to darkspawn bars or something.'_

She giggled again, but sat up and began strapping on his armor plating.

_'Don't worry, I'll keep thinking of a name.'_ Alistair needlessly reassured. _'I'm going to find a really great one, just you wait.'_

_'I'm already excited._' She promised, as she grabbed his sword and shield, and crawled awkwardly out of his tent, not exactly ready- but willing, to take on the day.

* * *

The few days she spent in isolation in Recliffe were awkward. The mages all went to an upper level of the castle for some sort of party she wasn't invited to, and she was briskly shoved into a small but well-furnished room in the barracks.

_'What are we doing here, anyway?'_ she asked.

Alistair bristled, obviously uncomfortable._ 'Ah, the mages should be freeing Connor from a demonic possession.' _He admitted awkwardly.

_'Oh, is that all?'_ She asked. _'How did he get possessed?'_

He seemed unsure. _'He's a mage. Lady Isolde didn't want to send him to the Circle, so she found a blood mage to come and teach him. The blood mage poisoned Arl Eamon, and the boy made a deal with a demon to keep him alive.'_

_'She just hired on a blood mage?'_ The spirit felt confused. _'I thought mages were kept in the Circle.'_

_'They are.'_ Alistair admitted. _'This one escaped, and was being hunted. Isolde took him on as a tutor, after Loghain released him to poison Arl Eamon.'_

_'Why would he want Eamon dead?'_ That hadn't really cleared anything up. There were too many people to remember.

_'Eamon is the Arl of Redcliffe, and wouldn't support Anora at the Landsmeet in her candidacy as Queen.' _Alistair informed her brusquely.

_'So who was in charge of the Arling while he was ill?' _

_'No one. Isolde, technically.'_ Alistair admitted. _'But Connor was possessed, and killed all the soldiers stationed here and sent their demon-possessed corpses down into the village.'_

_'Are the people all right?'_ she asked, horrified.

_'Well, no.'_ Alistair cringed. _'Most of them are dead.'_

_'Is this… normal?'_ She was almost lost for words.

_'Where young, untrained mages are concerned, it's been known to happen. Well, not this exact situation, but things like this, yes.'_ Alistair stated authoritatively.

_'So, this Isolde woman knew this could happen?' _

Alistair stopped entirely. _'Well… yes.' _He admitted. _'She would have. But she didn't want to give up her son, it's very understandable-'_

_'There are many things it is, but understandable isn't one of them.'_ She cut him off firmly. _'She's supposed to be in charge. She's supposed to look out for her people. No one wants to give up their child, but to make everyone abide by those laws and flout them herself is unconscionable. She endangered all of her people. Those deaths are all at her feet.'_

Alistair was obviously awestruck. _'I'd… never thought of it that way before.'_

_'You should have.'_ She informed him brusquely, then rethought it as he flinched from her._ 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. But she neglected her duty, and her selfishness cost uncounted lives.'_

He relaxed, though only minutely.

_'Honestly, Queen Anora should probably have her executed for crimes against her people. None of the citizens will ever trust her, or her husband, again. As they should, honestly. Once this gets out, the whole country will entirely destabilize. The citizens have been giving up their children to the Circle, but now they'll think that this wasn't an isolated case of the nobility exercising privilege, Alistair. If something isn't done about it…'_

_'The whole populace will rebel.'_ Alistair finished, sounding nauseous.

_'Yeah.'_ No point in denying it. _'And she was responsible for every death that occurred because of that decision. She even endangered her own husband's life, by bringing in that blood mage.'_

_'None of this would have happened without her.'_ Alistair gasped, as though coming to that conclusion for the first time.

_'Maybe.'_ The spirit shrugged. _'This Loghain man might have sent another person to kill or incapacitate the Arl. But if Connor was in the Circle, he wouldn't have torn the Veil here and turned to a demon. He wouldn't have known.'_

Alistair's presence slumped, defeated. _'I never thought about any of that.'_

She reached out to him reassuringly. _'Hey, you did fix it.'_

_'Not yet.'_ Alistair groused. _'What would you do, if you were Queen Anora?'_

_'Try Lady Isolde publicly for crimes against her people and execute her. It might be best to take away Eamon's land and title, as well. If he didn't know of any of it, he's criminally negligent. And it would be better for the people if he wasn't ruling them any more. They would be less bitter if they could start over. That Bann Teagan man we met is his brother, yes?'_

Alistair grunted in the affirmative. The spirit nodded authoritatively. _'I would make him Arl in Eamon's place, then. No need to take it entirely out of the family and destabilize the area further. Teagan seems likable enough, he'd be able to manage it. Then Eamon can stay here if Teagan permits, and the people would be satisfied.'_

_'Hopefully.'_ She amended. _'That's what I would do. But I'm not Queen Anora. She may handle it differently.'_

_'Does Eamon have to step down?'_ Alistair asked, somewhat defensively.

She considered it for a moment. _'Yes. He does. He's the Arl, so honestly he should be tried with his wife for crimes against his people. He's supposed to be in charge, and any actions taken in his name are his responsibility. It's not his fault, but he is responsible for it. There's just no reason to execute him for it, since he wasn't complicit in his wife's deception.'_

Alistair seemed conflicted. _'But he's a good Arl.'_

_'Is he?'_ she asked, curiously. _'Do you know him well?'_

Alistair nodded. _'He raised me, actually. I grew up here in Redcliffe. I stayed here, in the stables, until he married Lady Isolde. She was… resentful of my presence, so she had me sent away.'_

_'You lived in the stables.'_ She muttered angrily. _'Why?'_

_'I'm a royal bastard.'_ He spat. _'Everyone thought I was Eamon's bastard, so she wanted to get rid of me. They sent me to the Chantry.'_

Now she was stumped. _'So you're a prince, then?'_

_'Yes.'_ He groaned. _'And King Maric had Arl Eamon raise me.'_

_'And he did a piss-poor job, Alistair.'_ She bit back. _'There is no excuse for raising a child in a filthy stable. And why was this woman given authority to send you away? Wasn't your father angry about that?'_

_'He was dead by then.'_ Alistair shrugged. _'I don't think he ever checked in on me.'_

_'I don't think so, either, or he would have had Arl Eamon's head on a pike.'_ She muttered angrily. _'Raising you in a stable, and tossing you out like yesterday's trash. I want to pummel him into paste, maybe the golem will help me. She seems to like crushing awful things.'_

Alistair reared back, shocked. _'I don't want anything to happen to Arl Eamon!'_ He waved his hands frantically. _'I'm very grateful that he took care of me.'_

_'That's because you're a very good boy, but I can't attribute that to your raising.'_ The spirit countered. _'You shouldn't be grateful. Any other family would have taken you in as an orphan, and probably raised you as a knight. He purposefully kept you isolated and ill-cared for, so you would beatify him for any small kindness he gave you. I'm guessing that he threw you out not long after Cailan was crowned?'_

There was a telling silence.

_'How did you know that?'_ he asked uncomfortably.

She threw up her hands in exasperation. _'Because he just wanted his mitts on a king, Alistair. And it would be inconvenient if Cailan found out about you, so he got rid of you. But you were still an heir until Cailan had a child of his own, so he made sure you were squirreled away somewhere no one would look for you. If Cailan died, he'd throw you out as a candidate as the last of your line. You'd be a Templar, which is a noble profession, but wholly overlooked. And if you happened to come back with a nasty lyrium addiction, I'm sure your favorite uncle would have been more than happy to help you get your itch and help you with any pesky political situations.'_

Alistair seemed like he was about to cry.

_'Oh, now, don't get upset.'_ She tried to reassure him, feeling guilty for pointing out harsh truths and wishing she could physically comfort him. _'He may not be the nicest man, but there are plenty of people that genuinely want what's best for you. And he'd never actively harm you, he was just looking out for his best interest. And maybe I'm wrong,' _she said quietly._ 'Maybe you're right about all of it, and he just thought that what he did would be best for you.'_

Alistair slumped further._ 'No, I mean, well… I don't know.'_ He admitted. _'I just liked it better, thinking he really cared about me.'_

_'I'm sure on some level he does.'_ She drew herself around him like a blanket._ 'I just… I hope you're right. I don't want you getting used like that.'_

_'Thank you.'_ Alistair mumbled, and she squeezed him tighter, like one would hold a crying child.

* * *

_'Oh, god, this isn't going well at all.'_ She despaired quietly, hoping Alistair either would spare some comforting words and hints at how to pretend to be human again, or at least ignore her utter incompetence. She'd finally managed to break away from the group for a moment, to self-flagellate in peace.

Luckily for her, Alistair came through. _'Hey, now, it's not so bad.' _He cajoled, taking a sweet tone she most associated with parents and teachers. _'This is your first day, after all, who could blame you for forgetting things.'_

_'I forgot that you need to eat.'_ She grumbled, hating herself for forgetting something so simple. Then, a new fear struck her.

_'Oh, god, what if I forget what it feels like when you need to go to the bathroom, or something?' _

Alistair didn't even sound miffed. _'Hey, it happens. And if I'm not worried about it, you shouldn't be. Maker knows they already think me a simpleton.'_

_'But you aren't,' _She objected sullenly.

Alistair coughed awkwardly. _'Well, I may have… cultivated that particular personality.'_

She was less than amused. _'Why.'_

Alistair was silent for a few moments, and she took the opportunity to kick the nearest tree stump. The bark exploded off of it, but it did nothing to ease her irritation.

_'I'm a bastard prince.'_ Alistair muttered so quietly that she almost didn't catch it. _'And I don't like being in charge. I don't really like being singled out at all.'_

That did make a lot of sense, actually.

_'You know, Alistair, you're better than that.'_ She offered, even though she was much more in a mood to pity herself than help anyone else.

_'I am?'_ He asked, somewhat self-consciously.

_'You are.'_ She stated. _'And you know you can do better than that. You can be a leader, and it isn't really fair to either yourself or anyone else when you don't speak up.'_

Alistair was utterly silent, and obviously insulted.

_'And hey,'_ she cajoled, _'I think it's a crime that no one but me knows how funny you are.'_

Alistair was pleased with the compliment, she could feel that, but not enough to set off his earlier anger.

She shrugged. _'You should think about it. If you need to be King, you could be really great at it. But if you want to act the fool for now, though, I won't complain. God knows I'm going to end up making you look like an idiot, regardless of how I think you should be seen.'_

* * *

A few more days passed as they made their way to Denerim, and she felt that Alistair's body was now responding to her better than ever. Moving his limbs no longer involved conscious effort, and she no longer felt the sensation of moving in molasses after a few bouts of cleansing magic. Even better, his body had started to retain some of her ability, which she was sure Alistair would find most appealing when he regained control.

Hopefully, that would be relatively soon. It was a strange balance they maintained on a daily basis, she had to admit. He wanted his body back, and she wanted to give it back to him, but neither of them could do anything until he'd managed to recover enough control over himself to dream and let her go back.

Luckily, Alistair had only remained cross and silent for a few hours. He was still avoiding the subject, but she knew he was thinking it over. Instead, he'd decided to quiz her endlessly on the untold centuries she'd spent in the Fade.

_'So what did you do there with most of your time?'_ Alistair pried hopefully.

_'I don't suppose you'd be inclined to believe I influenced pagan societies to worship me as their goddess, and coerced them to bring me offerings of driftwood and potato salad?'_ She sighed, exhausted. He'd been bothering her for hours already today, and showed no signs of stopping.

_'I'm actually very inclined to believe it, but I doubt any of it was on purpose.'_ Alistair joked. _'So if you weren't travelling the world and teaching the Qunari to love, what did you spend all that time doing?'_

_'I read and wrote, mostly.'_ Sharing this bit of information couldn't hurt, at least

_'Read and wrote what, exactly?'_ Alistair sounded very excited, and she instantly cursed herself for giving him anything to go off of.

There was nothing for it, anyway. He'd never trust her if she lied to him.

_'I read and wrote about anything I could get my hands on. It's so dreadfully dull in the Fade, you see. And some of them I wrote… you're going to have to promise to not laugh at me about this.'_

Alistair promised solemnly, and so she continued.

_'I wrote a few of them about me.'_

_'I'm confused,'_ Alistair said, sounding like he was holding back laughter. _'You wrote a diary in the Fade and left it for others to read?'_

_'No! Well, not exactly._' And suddenly, she felt even more embarrassed than she had during this whole escapade, which was no mean feat. _'It's just… I needed to write about who I was – am – before. Spirits, we forget. And when we forget, that's when we become something else, like a demon. We can also become spirits embodying values, like Justice or Mercy or Compassion, but we're never… __**us**__ again after that. After I watched my friends change, I knew it was something I needed to do.'_

Alistair became very, very quiet for a moment. She hoped that he wouldn't continue in that line of questioning. That entire line of thought felt too raw, too real, to discuss with him right now.

_'And the other books?'_ he asked.

She thanked whatever deity was looking out for her at the moment, and shrugged reflexively.

_'People create books in the Fade, you know. They just think them into being, in whatever language they speak. Sometimes they're a book of children's tales, sometimes they're accounting ledgers, other times they're books of lost magics. Some are useful, some are not. I had time, so I read them all.'_

Alistair just hummed in assent. _'So I bet you know all kinds of wonderful things, right?'_

_'Perhaps.'_ She allowed. _'Some of what I know is possibly worthless works of fiction. It is a hard thing to know, and yet quite another thing to understand.'_

_'So what really happened to the Black City, do you know?'_ Alistair asked.

If she could have glared at him, she would have. But, if she was being honest with herself, that had happened hundreds of years ago already, and it was time for her to move on.

_'Yes, and no.'_ She stated carefully, mindful of her wording and tone. _'I was one of the spirits that helped to create what they called the Golden City, but most of it was actually created by living mages. I did not see what exactly happened to rot and corrupt it, but afterwards the demons of the Fade showed themselves for what they truly were.'_

_'So, is there a Maker at all?'_ Alistair asked, _'The Chantry tells us that the Tevinter Magisters touched the Golden City and changed it, and became darkspawn.'_

_'I do not know if there is a Maker or not, Alistair, and I am unaware of what became of the Magisters that disappeared. It is perhaps possible that there is a grain of truth to what your Chantry says. Maybe the magisters made deals with the spirits of the Fade that utterly corrupted all involved. However, to my knowledge, the Golden City becoming the Black City was merely a symptom, not a cause.'_

Alistair actually laughed.

_'You do realize you just made the most controversial statement about the Chantry in its history, don't you? Religious scholars would kill me to have this conversation with you about it.'_

She chuckled to herself. _'I would hope not, or we'd both likely die right now.'_

'Right, I'll be extra quiet about it then." Alistair teased, before taking a more serious tone again.

_'So you really were there, weren't you? When that happened. I think you know more than you're telling me. Am I right?'_

She slumped.

_'Yes.'_ She acknowledged glumly. _'Though my involvement in the corruption of the Black City is just what I said it was. Nothing. However, those mages were companions of mine, dream-friends that I enjoyed speaking with.'_

Alistair nodded solemnly. _'They were important to you, then.'_

_'They were.'_ No point in lying about it. And they'd never come back into the Fade in any form she recognized, if they ever came back at all.

_'Is that why you saved me from those demons back in the Circle Tower? I know I was very close to dying then.'_ Alistair shifted awkwardly, which informed her that he'd been thinking about this particular topic for some time.

_'Yes, I suppose so.'_ She acknowledged. _'But I didn't really think of it like that. We were panicking, I was panicking. All I knew is that a mass amount of demons, and a spirit of Faith had gone missing, all in the Circle Tower section of the Fade, where I was at the time. Of course, I didn't realize what place it was then, but there are only two other places I know of where the Veil is so torn asunder. It was of great concern to us, as the connection to the Circle Tower was completely unstable.'_

Alistair started panicking, but it wasn't until she picked over her words that she realized why.

_'You want us to go to those two other places and close the Veil, don't you.'_

Alistair affected a pleading look, and she snorted.

_'Fine, it is a good idea. And if I'm here, I may as well do some good. I don't suspect you are any good at closing the Veil.'_

Alistair sighed, relieved. _'Good. I hate to think that there are more of those things out there, threatening innocent virgins and adorable puppies.'_

She blinked, and laughed. Then she poked Alistair in the ethereal chest (or through, more accurately).

_'Only one problem, buddy.'_

_'And what problem is that?'_ Alistair asked, looking panicked again.

_'Nothing too major, but I don't have access to anything near my full power in your body. It can't handle both of us in here at the same time, it would tear us apart trying to make room. That's why those abominations look so darn ugly.'_

_'So, can or can't you close them?_' Alistair asked. _'I thought you were a powerful spirit.'_

_'I am, Alistair!'_ She tried to poke him again. _'But I don't have that much here to close a ton of openings in the Veil, which both of those places have. However, there is another person with an extra passenger in your party. You'll need to help me convince them to help us. Their spirit isn't as powerful as I am, but between the two of us we should be able to take care of any problems with the Veil that may arise.'_

* * *

_'Wynne.'_ Alistair sounded almost disappointed. _'You think a spirit of Faith is in Wynne. The nice, grandmotherly, Circle Mage that wouldn't hurt a fly.'_

_'Wouldn't hurt a fly?'_ She was glad she no longer had control of Alistair's head, or she would have laughed out loud and probably scared the war-dog. _'She killed four bandits with her walking stick this morning.'_

_'Besides,'_ she added for emphasis, _'it's a spirit of __**Faith**__. Not a demon. You don't think I'm a demon, do you? You don't seem like a particularly ill-behaved man. Or should the rest of your group suspect you of being an abomination because you never seem to wash your socks?'_

_'Point taken,_' Alistair grumbled. _'Take me over to Wynne, then. We will need to talk to her, first. Then Elissa, like you said.' _

They lumbered their way across the camp (it was awkward to move, with Alistair controlling one foot, his head and neck, and his right arm. She rather thought they looked like Frankenstein's monster when they moved around) all the way to Wynne, who was seated upon a fallen log. She looked to be peacefully resting and enjoying the crackling campfire, while everyone else had all gone to bed.

All but for Shale, in any case, who was standing guard a ways away. Hopefully, the golem would not present any problems.

"Wynne?" Alistair called softly, as they padded over the grass to her seat.

Wynne opened her eyes slowly, and smiled.

"Yes, Alistair? What can I do for you?"

Alistair questioningly gestured to the empty space beside her, and she nodded softly.

"I was just hoping that you would talk with me, is that all right?" Alistair asked quietly.

Wynne looked vaguely concerned, and affixed an assessing gaze on him. "What is the matter, Alistair? You have been quieter since your injury than you were before it."

"Ah, yes, about that." Alistair brought his right arm to scratch the back of his head bashfully. "That's actually what I want to talk to you about."

Wynne looked somewhat skeptical. "All right, then. What is troubling you?"

"Not a trouble, exactly." Alistair hedged, and the spirit tried not to want to roll her eyes. "More like a niggling question I have."

"I excel at answering trivial questions, Alistair." Wynne said, patiently waiting for him to get to his point.

The spirit rather loved her for that. This woman seemed very nice, when you weren't on the wrong end of her staff.

"Do you ever feel like there are good spirits watching over you?" Alistair blurted out awkwardly.

_'Hey, you're doing well.'_ The spirit encouraged him. _'Just stay calm. It's all right.'_

Alistair stopped twitching a bit, and nervously looked up at Wynne, who appeared to be in shock.

After a few moments, Wynne recovered. "And why do you say that, Alistair?"

Alistair hesitated, and the spirit waited patiently. He was more than able to do this on his own, and the sooner he learned that, the sooner he'd stop fearing to make the decisions he must.

"I think – no, I know- that day, I was touched by a spirit. Not a demon, Wynne, not at all. The spirit saved me and pulled me back from the Fade, and has been with me ever since."

He swallowed hard and they both waited in silence for the answer they hoped would come.

_'I really hope that you're right, spirit.'_ Alistair thought nervously. _'Otherwise, I don't think this ends well for us.'_

_'I am right, Alistair.' She_ reassured him. _'I know the spirit is within her. Just not her level of cooperation or knowledge. We'd never know without asking, and we'll need her help to close the Veil in those places. You're doing the right thing.'_

"I think you may be right." Wynne said somewhat breathlessly next to them, and Alistair cracked a relieved smile.

"And you don't think I'm an abomination?" He asked her, searching her face for any indication of condemnation.

Wynne shook her head. "No, Alistair, I do not think you are an abomination. May I tell you something as well?"

Alistair nodded his head, relieved that this was going mostly as initially hoped. Wynne leaned closer, and Alistair leaned in as well.

"I think something very similar may have happened to me in the Tower, not long before I met you."

"Before we arrived?" Alistair asked. Neither of them had been able to guess when it had happened for Wynne. Time was a screwy thing in the Fade, and Alistair hadn't determined a point at which a spirit may have deemed it necessary to save Wynne's life.

Wynne nodded again, a bit more firmly this time. "When I fought a demon earlier, to save the apprentices… I died, Alistair."

"You… died? But you're all right now, right?" Alistair began to panic again, but Wynne put her hand on his shoulder and he quieted.

"Yes, for the time being I am fine. But I did die, Alistair, and a spirit saved me. For most of my life, I have always felt this presence when I was in the Fade. It helped me to know that I would be all right, regardless of what the Fade had in store for me. I believe that spirit- a spirit of Faith - is the one that saved me in the Tower."

"Is it with you now?" Alistair asked quietly, cocking his head.

Wynne nodded very seriously. "It is with me always now. It is keeping me alive, Alistair. But my time is running out. I do not know how long it will be able to sustain me here in the land of the living."

Alistair nodded and bit his lip. "But you don't know how long that could take. It could take another decade or so for your spirit to go away."

Wynne shrugged, and still managed to make the gesture look dignified.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps it will happen tomorrow. There is no way to know."

The spirit nudged Alistair a bit. _'She has much longer than that, so long as she uses it wisely. But we must ask her about the gates to the Fade, Alistair. She is a woman who does not leave things unfinished, and would dislike us to not at least ask her, I think.'_

Alistair coughed awkwardly. "My spirit says you have a long time, if you are good to your spirit. And she wants me to ask you something."

Wynne looked slightly disturbed. "Yours can talk?"

Alistair shrugged. "Mine is very old. Actually, up until yesterday, she was the one everyone had been talking to. She's been running things for me since that day, and it's been slow for me to get back."

Comprehension suddenly dawned upon Wynne's face, and she let out a distinctly unladylike snort.

"So she's the one that tried to put Sten's cookies in the stewpot?"

Alistair snorted right with her. "She's still mortified about that, actually. She swears that she used to be decent at cooking, once."

Wynne giggled, but seemed incredibly curious. "So, aside from all the questions I'd love to ask you and your new friend, what is her request?"

Alistair blushed lightly, and tensed his shoulders. "Actually, it's also mine. She told me that the Veil around the Circle of Magi was incredibly torn while we were there, and all the spirits were panicking about it."

Wynne seemed distinctly more curious at that, but gestured for him to go on.

"Then she mentioned that there were only two places in Thedas that had the Veil torn as badly as there."

Wynne's eyes went wide with fear.

"That's what I thought, too. So she told me that she would take me to where they were, and we could repair and close the Veil so that those places would be safe. But she says the problem is that when she accidentally came here with me, she left a large chunk of herself in the Fade. There's not enough of her here to close all of those tears by herself. It takes time to recuperate that we wouldn't have, while demons swarmed out of the tears."

Wynne's jaw set in a line, and nodded sharply.

"So she told you she would need the assistance of another Fade spirit, correct? And that they would be able to repair these tears in the Veil?"

Alistair nodded, and swallowed nervously again.

"Where are they?" Wynne demanded authoritatively.

"She says that they're both actually kind of on our way to Denerim. The first is in Soldier's Peak, and the other is in a place called the Blackmarsh, near Amaranthine."

They could both tell that Wynne recognized the names, because her eyes set hard and she rose immediately.

"Alistair, I will absolutely never share your secret unless you tell me to, but the other information needs to be shared with your fellow Grey Warden as soon as possible. We should be near Soldier's Peak soon, if that merchant is right, and it is now a priority, rather than a side errand to be accomplished at a later date."

He nodded in agreement, and Wynne went to rouse Elissa from her tent.

After a short (which would have been surprising if the demand hadn't come from Wynne) discussion, Elissa nodded her head firmly as well.

"This is actually a very good idea for multiple reasons. Soldier's Peak was the former headquarters of the Grey Wardens before they were expelled from Ferelden, and they might have information and resources we desperately need. We don't even know how to attempt the Joining, or how to kill the Archdemon. And the idea of leaving demons unchecked to enter Ferelden at will is abhorrent. The Blackmarsh is still actually not that far out of our way to Denerim, either. Whatever goods we recover will be able to be sold in Denerim for supplies we need."

"And Wynne? Alistair?"

The people in question gave her their undivided attention, even though they were the only ones she'd been addressing in the first place.

After nodding their assent, she continued brusquely. "Are there any other matters I need to attend to tonight?"

There were not.

"Good. Get some sleep, you two." With that, she crawled back into her tent and almost immediately fell to lightly snoring again. Alistair snorted, and Wynne still couldn't quite hold back a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

The spirit didn't think she'd ever been more proud. Alistair had actually talked to Elissa, and determined that they would share the leadership and responsibilities of the group from this point forward. He was finally taking the reins he was meant to hold, and it showed.

He looked more confident, and almost- dare she say it- kingly in his bright armor, with his sword and shield.

At this point, she was even just a presence in his mind, but for his left pinky. No dreams yet, but they were sure it would be any day now. Soon he would be on his own, and all the better for it.

_'Are we almost there yet?' _he mentally moaned, and she giggled as he shattered the illusion entirely.

_'Almost.'_ She promised. _'I pinky swear.'_

_ 'How can I trust a pinky swear from a spirit?' _he fake-groused.

_'I do have the one.'_ She reminded him. _'I'd like to say that counts.'_

_'I did walk right into that one,' _he admitted, as she grinned.

_'Is it odd that I'm a little excited?_' the spirit asked, and she knew that if she had a body, it would be bouncing from foot to foot.

He shrugged a little, and no one seemed to notice. _'I don't think so. It's a good thing we're doing, and it could help a lot of people, not just the Drydens. This place held against darkspawn for a long time, and if it's still in decent condition, many people could use it for shelter. And if you hadn't told us how damaged the Veil was here, we might have moved people into here for demons to get them. It's all right to be excited, I think. I know I'm excited.'_

_'That, and I don't have a lot to do in here.' _She admitted, feeling slightly guilty. _'Not that I have exciting things to do in the Fade. It's just wonderful to be able to do something here, something that feels real.'_

They continued to follow Levi through the winding tunnels, and after a few more turns, were bathed in an extraordinary amount of light.

_'We're here!' _She chirped.

Alistair's group moved to him, taking the positions they had discussed earlier in camp.

"You sure you don't want Morrigan with you?" Elissa lightly teased, as she unsheathed her own sword and took a quick glance at the entrance to the fortress.

"Positive." Alistair replied, with only a small amount of sarcasm. "Though I'll miss her every second we're apart, I'm sure."

Morrigan turned to Wynne, and scowled. "I still do not see why the oaf is better-suited to assisting you with repairing the Veil than I."

Wynne smiled. "His Templar training with the Chantry provides him with a specific technique that makes his assistance ideal. As I have said before, if you would like to assist us, Morrigan, I would welcome the help. However, I would need to give you some Circle-mandated training," she calmly bull-shitted.

Alistair tried his very best not to snigger at the thought of Morrigan stooping to allow Wynne to teach her something, much less something that had originated from the Chantry. It was a little lucky that there were no other mages in the party. Anyone other than an apostate would definitely know that what Alistair and Wynne were doing was unheard of and become suspicious.

Morrigan huffed impatiently, and glared at Alistair while he re-adjusted the straps on his breastplate.

"If you are quite finished, I would like to be done with this horrid place as soon as possible." Morrigan declared, as she put her hands on her hips. "'tis true, the Veil is very thin here. It is most unpleasant."

"Right, you heard the lady." Alistair monotoned, as he gestured to Wynne, Shale, Sten and Zevran. "Let's get moving."

Alistair spared Morrigan a saucy wink as he walked past, and she scoffed openly at him in response.

_'Did I just see sparks?'_ the spirit teased.

Alistair just found that amusing. _'Only if she lit my pants on fire.'_

* * *

_'So, Spirit of Truthiness, what is your command?_' Alistair ribbed, as he dodged a blow from a possessed Sophia Dryden.

_'My advice is to kill it with great prejudice.'_ She suggested, not even a little irritated by the pet name. _'Then we can go mend the tears to the Veil, and go deal with this mage the demon mentioned. I do not think it would be wise to go to fight a blood mage in front, leaving demons to attack us from behind.'_

_'Fair enough, Your Truthiness.'_ Alistair laughed, ducking out from behind his shield to give the demon a punishing blow to the upper leg, while Sten attacked the sword arm, and Shale waited until after they did their damage to chuck a large hunk of rock directly to its torso, which managed to cave in the entire chest plate.

Scant minutes later, Wynne lit the corpse on fire after Alistair stripped it of the ceremonial armor, and they ventured out to the large room in which there were four drawn summoning circles.

_'You and Wynne are going to have to close each one together, while the other smash anything that dares to come out of them.'_ The spirit said seriously, and Alistair nodded and barked out the orders.

_'How long will this take?'_ Alistair asked.

She considered that for a moment, and then shrugged. _'Not a clue. Could be anywhere from a few seconds each, to a half hour. Though I doubt it would take that long between the two of us.'_

_'And if it did, it's likely that Elissa and her team will be able to meet us up here relatively soon to help dispose of demons. So, all things considered, this isn't too bad.'_ Alistair evaluated.

_'Easier than the Circle Tower?' _she asked, curiously. She hadn't really seen much of the Tower, by the time she'd joined up, they were pretty much at the top.

_'Very much so.'_ Alistair said decisively, as they rounded on the first summoning Circle.

_'Ready?'_ she said, and heard Alistair asking the same of his companions. When the affirmative came, she reached out with her energy to latch onto the portal, as Wynne's spirit did the same.

She focused on the connection to the Fade, and when she found the familiar calling of her home, she went against every instinct she had and told it to close.

A few seconds later, the first rage demons came.

She could have sworn that Shale giggled as she smacked them down and squished them in her massive, stony fists, while Sten and Zevran hadn't even hardly had to move.

The second wave was a bit more difficult. A desire demon forced her way through along with the easily-quashed rage demons, and Sten and Zevran were forced to duck in and around the rage demons to dispose of her first. Shale just squished the other rage demons in her way, and backhanded the desire demon into a stone column, before it could provide power to the weaker demons.

A minute or two (and several rounds of demons) later, the first portal was closed, and they moved on to the next one. Alistair rolled out his neck before he took his position, and called to start again.

This portal was even easier to close than the first, now that she and the other spirit knew what they were looking for.

As odd as it sounded, they were all working very well together. Alistair and Wynne obviously had incredible discipline. She knew that channeling this much spiritual energy was extraordinarily hard on human tissue, but they held their positions exactly as they were required for as long as needed.

Only three groups of demons escaped from this portal before it was closed, but she knew it was still getting to be too much.

Even Shale seemed to be wearing down a bit, in enthusiasm if nothing else, and both Sten and Zevran were covered in burns and considerable cuts.

They'd have to be healed after, she knew. The portals closing would have sent demons into a panic, and the other portals would soon be teeming with demons if they weren't shut immediately.

_'Just two more,'_ she coaxed Alistair, as he stiffly made his way to the third summoning circle. _'They should take even less time. How are you feeling?'_

_'Not the greatest,'_ he thought sluggishly. '_I'm going to need a nice long sleep after we do this one. You said that this should get easier the more I'm used to it, right?'_

_'Right.'_ She said. _'It's what I've been told, anyway. Your body just needs to learn how to cope with my energy, and then it should get used to me using it.'_

"Two more!" Alistair called out, and she heard that his poor voice was hoarse with exhaustion.

He and Wynne took their positions, and the spirit latched onto the Fade's connection like a drowning man would grasp at a life preserver. She yanked the connection – hard- and commanded it to close. It only took about ten seconds for it to entirely shut, which was just long enough for two lone rage demons to slip out.

They barely even had time to materialize before Shale sat on one, and Sten sliced the other in half.

_'One more!'_ she encouraged Alistair. _'Even shorter, and you'll get a nice long nap in a safe, demon-free area. Won't that be nice?'_

Alistair wasn't even quite coherent enough to think any words back at her, just the general feeling of exhaustion and gratitude. He really wanted that rest.

He and Wynne stumbled over to the last summoning circle, and immediately brought their bodies into the proper position. They were barely in place before the spirits leapt into the connection, and yanked again.

Another ten to fifteen seconds later, and the last summoning circle was closed.

"If it's all right with all of you, I'm just gonna take a nice long nap right here." Alistair slurred.

Zevran chuckled, but Sten looked extremely unimpressed.

"No." Sten said, before lifting Alistair bodily by his armor's collar like a kitten, and deposited him on the filthy stone bench in the next room. "You may sit here and rest while we wait for the others to arrive."

He might have protested about the abrupt loss of his command, but slumped over on the bench instead. Wynne slowly shuffled over a moment later, escorted by a smug-looking Zevran.

"Rest, my bosomy swan." Zevran shot Wynne one of his most smarmy grins, and she huffed in tired amusement.

The spirit went to work repairing Alistair's exhausted muscles, and sent out a few spikes of healing energy that repaired most of the damage. After a few minutes, his heart rate and breathing had levelled out, and he no longer felt like he was going to collapse under the force of a light breeze.

_'See? That wasn't so bad.'_ She said cheerfully, and Alistair grunted half-heartedly in response. Next to them, she could see Wynne recovering as well.

_'How come you can patch us up, but couldn't close the portals on your own?'_ Alistair asked, as he gazed around the room with half-lidded eyes.

_'Closing or opening portals to the Fade takes a lot of power.'_ She said dismissively. _'That's why most of the humans who do so die horribly in the process, or require large groups for such a ritual. Healing people is nothing in comparison.'_

_'You mean the demons don't eat them?'_ Alistair deadpanned.

_'Of course they do. Just not the ones that already managed to off themselves before the demons get there.'_

_'On that cheerful note,'_ Alistair switched the subject as gracelessly as always, _'I finally found what I think is the perfect name for you.'_

_'Oh?'_ She asked, interested. _'And what name is that?'_

_'I'm really proud of this one.'_ Alistair said smugly. _'Echo.'_

_'That's… surprisingly apt.'_ She felt a bit off-kilter, but recovered quickly enough to finish her thought. _'Not that I expected any less of you.'_

_'So,' _Alistair teased,_ 'I was right. Now what kind of lover-boy did you pine after like the famed Echo?'_

_'He had blonde, flowing hair like an Orlesian princess, and Templar armor that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.'_ She rejoined, glad to be back to playful banter. _'Sound like anyone you know?'_

_'Not a clue.'_ Alistair deadpanned. _'Perhaps he was also raised by wild dogs?'_

_'Most definitely.'_ She agreed, prompting a slight protestation from her companion. _'That is, before a fearsome witch turned him into a toad and squished him. It was absolutely heartbreaking.'_

_'You're such a ray of sunshine.'_

"Alistair, Wynne." Elissa greeted calmly, eyeing them for any obvious signs of injury. "Are all the portals closed?"

Neither of them had even noticed her entry, and Alistair twitched in surprise.

Wynne stood and nodded her head. "Yes, Elissa. I believe they are all taken care of. The rest of the damage to the Veil here can only be repaired with time. I take it that your mission went well also?"

Elissa nodded firmly, and addressed Alistair.

"We cleared the other entrances and rooms, mostly just skeletons animated by lesser demons. All the floors are clear, and we managed to find a decent amount of money and equipment that can be sold or salvaged."

"And we found the Warden-Commander's office." Alistair jerked his head in its direction. "The demon occupying her body did say that she wanted us to kill a mage in the tower, though. It appears the entire fortress still is not clear, I think it would be prudent to take care of any other potential enemies before conducting a thorough search."

"Agreed." Elissa unsheathed her sword and lazily held it at her hip. "We should get going, then. Are you and Wynne all right to come with us?"

Alistair looked over at Wynne, and she gave a slight, but confident nod. "We are ready whenever you are, Elissa."

Elissa surveyed the group at large before setting her jaw in a firm line. "Right, then. Fall in, everyone. Standard formation."

They took their positions by the door before Alistair opened it, shield held high.

It turned out that they were right to expect opposition. As they stepped onto the bridge, and Echo heard the telltale clacking and scraping as fifty or so skeletons assembled themselves on the bridge to the tower and took up arms.

Alistair kept his shield up to protect his face and torso, and barked out an order. "Morrigan, Wynne, get their archers!"

Neither of the mages responded, but Wynne immediately summoned a massive fireball in her hand, and threw it. It came down on the other end of the bridge, and incinerated at least five of the skeletons whole with a blistering heat that actually knocked down several others.

The smell of burning bones and melting metal reached Alistair's nose, but he heroically stifled his gag reflex and charged directly into the line of skeletons to knock a few down with his shield.

Morrigan shot out a bolt of electricity that made the air crackle as it passed from enemy to enemy, leaving only white hot ash in its wake. Echo took a moment to quietly hope that it didn't 'accidentally' jump to Alistair.

The remaining archers loosed their arrows, and one caught Leliana directly in the chest.

"Wynne!" Elissa called, panicked, as she raised her own shield and bashed a skeleton into nothing but bones.

Wynne ducked down to Leliana and began to work immediately, summoning healing energy with her staff and focusing it on Leliana's chest wound.

_'So we're down from three to one long-range fighters.'_ The spirit summed up calculatingly, as Alistair whipped around to sever a skeleton in half with his sword.

Alistair turned, just in time to panic and scream, "Duck!" as Shale lifted up part of one of the fallen decorative pillars and swung it like a bat to knock another seven skeletons off the bridge entirely.

_'She's impressive.'_ Echo noted approvingly. _'If I ever come back to your world on my own, I think I'd like to find a golem body.'_ Alistair was nice enough, but he couldn't really compare to ten tons of solidified awesome.

Sten brought his great sword down and cleaved another skeleton in half, as Zevran tossed a fire bomb into the fray and dove directly into the fight.

The fight was over pretty quickly after that, between Shale swinging her column and Morrigan half-heartedly lobbing balls of electricity into ever-declining mass of enemies.

_'Skeletons aren't really that fearsome, are they?_' Echo asked. _'Is it because they no longer possess muscle mass? Regular abominations seem to be much more problematic.'_

_'You know, I never thought about it like that, but you're probably right.'_ Alistair admitted. _'The skeletons are already decayed, so they don't have much power behind them. Mage abominations are harder to defeat between their magic and sheer muscle mass, and revenants have more masterful control over magic. Skeletons just have basic control enough to swing swords and use bows, sometimes not even that.'_

So, theoretically, the longer a demon could keep their host alive, the better. That was harder than it sounded, however. She had even wanted Alistair to live, and if he hadn't paid attention she probably would have starved him to death.

Being alive was harder than she'd remembered. Then again, it was hard to remember much about the banalities of everyday life. When you were alive, you entirely dismissed them as trivial necessities. Eating, sleeping, and going to the bathroom were just so obvious that they didn't even need to be mentioned. And then after she died, she hadn't even noted their absence in the face of so much change in general.

Food for thought, perhaps. But that way lay madness, and likely an utter corruption of herself into one of the demons she'd tried so hard to avoid.

Alistair and Elissa led the group over the rest of the bridge and cautiously opened the large doors to the tower.

It reeked of mold, rot, and something unspeakably sour, making Alistair's stomach contract and bile rise in his throat.

It was even less pleasant for Echo, whose long death had brought her much-increased sensitivity.

_'Oh, ew!'_ she choked out. _'We should turn back around and leave. This tower of filth cannot be saved without the power of cleansing fire, and we can just have Morrigan and Wynne burn it to the ground from a safe distance.'_

_'You finished ranting yet?'_ Alistair asked, almost amused.

_'I had more.'_ She pouted, but obligingly quieted to let Alistair pay attention to his surroundings. Well, up until she had a look around for herself.

_'Are those… cages?'_ She asked, desperately hoping that this was one of those hilarious 'spirit vs human' misunderstandings her existence had been so full of lately.

_'Yeah.'_ Alistair said awkwardly. _'They even come with authentic bloodstains, how nice.'_

_'I'm glad the whole group is here for this.'_ Echo resisted the all-too-human urge to run through nonexistent hair to console herself. _'I have a very bad feeling about this.'_

The room was covered in rusty chains and old bloodstains, but there was a desk by the door leading up to the next floor covered in papers.

_'Can we look at that?'_ Echo asked. _'It might be best to know what we're dealing with here. Though I suspect this is the work of a blood mage, likely the same one who opened the portals in the fortress.'_

_'It's been decades upon decades,'_ Alistair objected. _'Whoever did that is long dead by now.'_

_'I doubt it.'_ She answered plainly. _'If the Warden-Commander's body was still walking and talking just this morning, why couldn't a powerful blood mage reproduce some of those effects? And it did seem to know what it was talking about, and wanted us to kill a mage. I doubt that people were living and reproducing in here. This is likely the work of a small group or formidable individual.'_

_'You have a fair, but disturbing, point._' Alistair conceded grimly.

He walked stiffly over to the desk, and rifled through the papers.

"What is it?" Elissa asked from across the room, as she walked away from one of the cages with a carefully blank look on her face.

"It appears to be detailed notes on something… sordid." Alistair reflected. "Something about blood and the darkspawn taint."

Elissa grimaced reflexively before she stilled her face again. "We can address that later, then. Maker knows we're going to have to have more than a few fires just to make this place not first-rate nightmare material."

Alistair nodded and dropped the notes onto the desk, obviously relieved to have them out of his hands.

"Well, let's go take care of a blood mage, then." Alistair stated much more confidently than he felt.

"All right." Elissa turned to the next door, and raised her shield to cover her torso. "Zevran, would you please get the door? I doubt our host is going to be happy to see us." She then withdrew her sword, as Alistair did the same.

When Zevran carefully opened the door and danced out of the way, Alistair and Elissa charged into the rooms first with their shields held high. Alistair choked a bit as the stench intensified, the air filled with the stink of blood, waste, and rotting corpses.

_'And not an open window in sight.'_ Echo thought balefully.

"I see that someone has finally heeded my calls." An elderly but confident voice rang from the front of the room, and Elissa cautiously lowered her shield to look its owner in the face.

"And I see a man covered in his own waste." Morrigan scoffed. "I thought the stench could not get any worse than before, but I see now I was horribly wrong."

"We are Wardens, and here to reclaim Soldier's Peak for our order." Elissa stated carefully, ignoring Morrigan with practiced ease.

"Are you really?" The man said, obviously amused. "I do not doubt that you are a Warden, but none of your other companions bear the taint. I knew our order was severely diminished, but I did not think the situation quite this dire."

Alistair was about to protest that of course he was terminally poisoned, but Echo interrupted him.

_'Not what we need to do right now. This isn't time for a round of 'my taint is better than yours'. You need information, and most of the papers we saw in there were almost dust.'_

He hung his head, so she knew he acknowledged her point.

"Whatever the case may be, we did come here for information. You are a Warden, are you not?"

The man inclined his head curtly, and regarded them with the respect one might accord a particularly interesting insect.

"I am, yes. I am the last one here of my fellows at Soldier's Peak. My name is Avernus, and you are…?"

"Cold and angry." Alistair muttered, although thankful for the chill draft in the tower. At least if it wasn't warm, it didn't smell as badly as it could have.

"I am Elissa of the Grey Wardens, and I have some questions that you can answer." Elissa announced confidently. "It is true that our Order has been much reduced in this Blight, and we are newer recruits."

"Of course you are." Avernus scoffed.

_'Am I the only one tempted to light the decrepit weasel on fire?_' the spirit wondered.

_'I think I can safely say that everyone here would back you up on that particular desire_.' Alistair replied easily. '_But please do restrain yourself, I'd like not to be trundled off to a Chantry laboratory somewhere to be dissected as the world's first Mage Templar.'_

'That sounds like a personal problem.' She grumbled, but restrained the urge to smite the deranged and condescending geezer right out the nearest window.

"Do you know how to conduct a Joining?" Elissa asked, getting to the meat of the matter.

Avernus blinked, before hanging his head in a wheezing imitation of a laugh.

"My, you really are a new recruit, aren't you?" He looked up to examine Elissa more closely, and Alistair felt a strong urge to remove her from the room before the blood mage found his scalpels.

Elissa stood her ground under Avernus' disturbing gaze, and eventually the blood mage ceased his study.

"I will provide you with the documents pertaining to the Joining, and the materials you will need." Avernus conceded, before turning his back to them and striding to a chest in the back of the room. He unlocked it with a key he kept around his neck, and carefully lifted the lid.

Avernus then lifted a smaller box out of the chest, and brought it back to Elissa.

"I had brought it with me to my Tower, as this was the last defensible place in the fortress. Warden secrets should remain so, and Arland's men had no business with Warden knowledge." Avernus murmured, before reverently holding it out in front of Elissa. She sheathed her sword and took it with one hand, bracing it against her chest.

"What happened here?" Elissa asked, absentmindedly rubbing her thumb in circles over her prize.

Avernus shrugged. "It all seemed so important, then. We defended ourselves against a tyrant, and thought it important to rebel. But now… the years have erased our abysmal failure, and the world did not end while Arland was King."

"I thought the Wardens weren't supposed to be involved in politics." Alistair stated calmly, with only his fingers gripping tightly around his sword's grip betraying his unease.

Avernus didn't even turn to look at him.

"So they aren't." He agreed. "Again, the situation seemed much more dire then. Now, of course, no one knows or cares."

"So Sophia Dryden really was a traitor, then?" Morrigan said, amused. "That fool merchant is going to be disappointed."

"She was the best of us." Avernus said, but he did not deny Morrigan's statement. "We would have followed her anywhere."

"Were you the mage that opened all those Fade portals in the fortress?" Elissa asked quietly, and Alistair reflexively moved to a defensive position.

Avernus straightened his shoulders and rose his chin in an obvious gesture of pride. "It was my greatest achievement." He stated factually. "It took countless hours of work, but my diligence was rewarded when we needed their use."

"Blood magic?" Alistair asked incredulously.

Avernus actually looked at him this time, but his gaze was filled with nothing but cold contempt.

"The Wardens have always used any means deemed necessary." He stated. "And that includes blood magic."

"And these experiments?" Alistair demanded, gesturing around the room angrily with his sword. "Were they also necessary?"

Avernus looked down his nose at him and grimaced slightly. "Yes. They were necessary. We Wardens spend our lives with the Taint, content to let it destroy us and never use it to its full potential. We die young and often pointlessly. I resolved to find a solution."

"Is that how you've lived so long?" Elissa asked, but Alistair could see that she was almost done with the charade of civility as well.

"Partly." Avernus shrugged again. "I also used my blood magic to prolong my life span, but that does not last forever, I am afraid. I am coming to my end, here."

Then Avernus stepped forward and looked into Elissa's eyes calculatingly. "Which brings us to your decision, Warden. I see it written on your face. Will you let me live, or kill me?"

"What would you do if I let you live?" Elissa asked warily, eyeing Avernus.

"I would continue my research, though I would need more… participants." He waved haphazardly to the blood-filled, blood-covered cages and pits in the room, and Alistair had to swallow rising bile again.

Elissa sneered angrily. "Then I know what I must do." She jerked her head at Alistair, and he brought his sword above Avernus' neck.

Avernus held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Do you not need me to close the Portals to the Fade before you swing your sword?"

Elissa grinned, and it was beautiful in its own feral way. "Already taken care of."

Avernus didn't even have time to voice his obvious confusion before Alistair's blade came down and cleaved his head clean off his shoulders. His body slumped to the ground like a puppet with cut strings, and Alistair smoothly wiped the blade on Avernus' robe before sheathing it again.

Elissa looked around the room calculatingly, before calmly issuing orders. "Alistair, you and I are looking for any information relating to the Grey Wardens. Morrigan, Wynne, Sten, and Shale, you're on body looting and disposal. Everything will need to be burned thoroughly. Zevran and Leliana, I want you to go around the castle and gather anything valuable or useful you find. This room and the Warden-Commander's office are off-limits, but I'd like for you to search everywhere else."

Then she calmly held out a hand in Zevran's direction. "I may need a few of your fire bombs."

Zevran cocked an eyebrow, but handed two fire bombs over without a word.

The group filed out of the room efficiently and drug Avernus' remains with them, leaving Alistair, Elissa, and Elissa's mabari, Peaches, alone in Avernus' tower.

"We should get started, I suppose." Alistair muttered, though in truth he would have given quite a lot to be anywhere else at the moment.

He shuffled morosely to Avernus' desk, and noted Elissa rifling unhappily through one of the trunks in the room.

_'Creepy notes, creepier notes, what appears to be a collection of human skin flakes, which are also creepy.'_ Alistair internally catalogued. 'Just what do I even do with all of this?'

_'Throw it all in that pit in the middle of the room, so you can toss a fire bomb in it later._' The spirit suggested.

_'Good idea, Echo.'_ He praised. _'Just how much of this place do you think will have to be put to the torch?'_

She had actually been considering that for some time, actually.

_'Almost everything up here, and a lot of corpses down there, but most everything down there should be fine._' She stated, somewhat pleased with how little lasting damage there would be. _'There was no corruption in the castle, other than the demons themselves.'_

_'And how long until this place is livable?'_ Alistair tossed a large pile of papers into the disturbingly large pit, and went back to the desk. _'I don't know about you, but I'd be less than comfortable inviting all my friends over for a sleepover here.'_

She shrugged. _'Depends on how many people you have working on it, probably. I don't really know everything that would be required to run a fort of this size. I could barely handle setting up our tent, Alistair. But with a lot of people and a decent amount of supplies, it probably wouldn't take that long. I think that Elissa is right, and this is a good place to take back. The reason everyone here died was that Arland's men couldn't even get in until the Wardens almost succumbed to starvation, and all of the actual buildings are still standing.'_

_'That's true.'_ Alistair conceded, as he completely emptied the desk of its contents and tossed them into the pile after a look. _'And the compound in Denerim is going to be a bit inaccessible, due to the, you know, accusations of treason.'_

_'Yeah, that is most certainly a downer.'_ She agreed. _'And have you seen the prices for non-Blighted real estate right now? Ludicrous.'_

Alistair scoffed, and shoved a blood-covered table over the edge of the pit. It fell to the bottom with a crash, and the force blew some papers up in the wind.

_'Anything salvageable?' _She asked wearily. At least the blood mage hadn't been a hoarder, for all his other faults. Everything in the tower seemed to be malevolent and wrong, but at least there wasn't very much of it.

_'Not that I've found.'_ Alistair grunted, and kicked another table towards the pit._ 'No Grey Warden information, no diary, not even a dirty book. Just piles and piles of notes about torturing and killing Grey Wardens to make the darkspawn taint more useful to us.'_

_'Is there any merit at all to his work?'_ She asked, vaguely curious. _'I would never say that I approve of his methods, but if he already did all the work, you may as well benefit from it.'_

_'No.'_ Alistair stated with conviction. _'I want no part in any of that man's crimes, no matter the gain.'_

_'You're a better man than I.'_ she said, viewing the tower with distaste. _'Are we almost done here, at least?' _

Alistair only grunted again, and looked around the room so she could see that there were plenty more tables and cages to clean out.

_'Oh, your god.'_ She sighed, disgusted._ 'But after this, we are finding a lot of cheese and wine. After a very thorough bath.'_

Alistair didn't reply, but she was sure he agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Sten, could I speak to you for a moment?" Alistair asked, and Echo wasn't sure if she should intrude or watch.

Sten looked at him condescendingly, and then nodded. He followed Alistair a small ways from the camp, where Alistair sat heavily on a large rock.

"What was it like, being in charge of soldiers?" Alistair asked wearily. "Is it at all like what Elissa is doing?"

"I was under the impression that you were accepting your place as a leader, basra." Sten scoffed. "But no, it was a different experience than travelling with you Wardens."

Alistair bit his lip, and looked down at the ground.

"I am accepting the role I was given, Sten. But that's not what I'm asking. Did you feel responsible for your soldiers?"

Sten leered at him, and crossed his arms. "That is what it is to lead, basra."

"Do the Qunari think that the end justifies the means like the Wardens do? You seem like more of a man of principle than that."

Sten relaxed visibly. "You are disturbed by the events of Soldiers Peak."

Alistair shrugged. "In part, yes. But it's more than that. I always knew that the Wardens would do anything to end the Blight, but I didn't really think that meant _anything_."

"Like blood magic."

Alistair nodded, and swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. "Or experimenting on other Wardens, for another. There are other things about the Wardens that disturb me."

Sten seemed interested. "Like what?"

Alistair pulled his shield close to his chest, as if to protect himself from his own traitorous thoughts.

"The utter lack of oversight or accountability. The undisclosed nature of the organization. The lies upon lies." He looked down at his feet miserably.

Sten sat on the ground next to him silently.

"The Qun tells us that every person has their place. I am Sten, and was born as such. My role is to lead and to fight. All that I am is known to me, and anyone that knows I am Sten."

"Does that make it easier?" Alistair asked, fingers curling tight around the edge of his shield until they turned white.

"The certainty provides purpose. My purpose guides me." Sten said, gazing out into the night sky.

"Would your purpose allow blood magic and sacrifice of living beings?"

"I travel with the mages of your party, but no. The Qun does not allow our mages to use such magic. The Saarebas are collared and led, allowed to protect the Qun with their lives and magic, but not by consorting with demons." Sten turned his head to Alistair. "But sacrificing lives is the nature of war. Do you intend to be a leader of warriors, or of fat dathrasi?"

Alistair straightened defensively. "I intend to lead by my principles, Sten."

"And do your principles align with the Wardens?" Sten asked in monotone.

"No, they don't." Alistair admitted shamefully. "I agree with their purpose, but not with their actions."

Sten gave him a blank look, tinted with approval. "Then perhaps you are not entirely a basra after all."

* * *

As Alistair settled into his bedroll and closed his eyes, the spirit felt a familiar tug at her core. She looked down, but didn't register anything being amiss until she looked around again and realized where she was.

"I'm back in the Fade!" she sang happily, and twirled. She swung her ethereal arms around her, and basked in the comfort of her long-missed home.

But now that she looked at it, the Fade was really a pale shadow of the waking world. Is that why light and smell and sound and touch had been so frighteningly vivid in Alistair's body?

"Huh." She heard from behind her, and whirled around to see Alistair splayed on the ground. "This is… odd."

"What's odd about the Fade? You mortals dream here all of the time." She smiled happily.

"That's exactly what's wrong, Echo. Grey Wardens… we don't dream in the Fade."

She froze.

"Then what do you do?" She inquired slowly. Maybe that's where the mages were disappearing to. Though why they said 'becoming Tranquil' instead of 'becoming a Grey Warden' was beyond her. But that wouldn't be the first time she'd found mortal behavior odd and contradictory.

"We have the Taint. During Blights like this, I should be dreaming of the Archdemon and the horde. I've had nightmares every night since my Joining, until you came along. I wasn't dreaming at all before today, but this is the first time I've been in the Fade for more than a year."

Wait. Gears started frantically whirring in her head, and her eyes widened in comprehension. "No…" she whispered, and stepped closer to Alistair to examine him. After a few moments, all the pieces fell into place and she slumped to the ground.

"What is it?" Alistair asked, obviously concerned. "I'm not dying, am I?"

She actually laughed, then. "That's exactly it, Alistair. You're not dying at all."

Alistair looked like she'd slapped him with a fish. "That's good, right?"

"Not if you liked being a Warden." She shrugged. "I'm not sure how or when it happened, but you don't have the Taint anymore at all."

"Not possible," Alistair shrugged, "Grey Wardens drink darkspawn blood and absorb the Taint, which slowly kills us or drives us mad."

"That's exactly what I'm saying." She looked up to meet his eyes wearily. "I think I may have accidently cured you."

Alistair's whole body twitched. "How is that even possible?" he ran his hands through his hair in an obvious effort to comfort himself, and she put a hand on his shoulder.

"It may have been when I originally helped you and pulled out demonic energy, or it might have been when I took over your body in the Circle Tower. I do remember noting a sluggish feeling in your limbs that gradually receded the longer I was in control. Or perhaps I could have purged the final bits of the Taint when we closed the portals to the Fade together, I do not know. But the blood mage knew that only Elissa still had the darkspawn taint, he even said as much."

Alistair grabbed at her arms, and his eyes were wide with panic. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"I didn't realize it then, Alistair, calm yourself." She patted his hair awkwardly, and he let himself fall onto the ground with a pained look.

They both stayed silent for a few awkward moments, before Alistair finally spoke.

"That means Elissa is the only Warden in all of Ferelden."

She flopped onto the ground next to him. "That is a heavy burden to bear, to be sure. Has a Warden ever been cleaned of the Taint before?"

Alistair shook his head. "Not that I know of, at least. Which means I should be very quiet about it, I suppose."

"Only if you're still strangely adverse to being studied and picked apart by the Wardens for science." She sighed. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry – for all of this. I didn't intend to take a joyride in your body, and I didn't even know that I could cure the Taint. I've made your life infinitely harder, and I don't even begin to know how to fix it."

Alistair shook his head again emphatically. "There's nothing to fix, and it isn't your fault, really. Though this is going to be much harder than I had ever hoped."

He rolled over onto his side, and made a silly face at her. "I suppose you'll just have to make it up to me somehow, right?"

She eyed him like a rabbit might eye a sleeping dog. "I'm not going to like this, am I."

Alistair grinned. "I think I'd just still like to have your advice for a while. Besides, no one else ever gets my jokes. Sten seems to think I was actually raised by dogs."

She rolled her eyes. "The lack of bathing certainly does support that theory. I don't even have a nose and I can smell you."

"So, what do you say?" Alistair waggled his eyebrows and grinned.

"Fine, you great yellow menace. I'll help you, at least until the Blight is over. Then I'm off to the Fade, unchecked, unchallenged-"

"Teaching demons to love?" Alistair interrupted, still smiling.

"…Sure. Why not."

* * *

_'Are you sure you do not mind?'_ The spirit asked awkwardly. She was actually enjoying her time in the living world, but she didn't want to wear out her welcome. The living world was just so exciting, and she was finally getting the chance to answer questions she'd had for centuries.

But it was common knowledge that only demons longed for contact with the living world. Did that mean she was changing? Or maybe she, like Alistair, had already changed without even knowing it?

It was hard to know. Maybe all demons had moments like this before they changed. But she didn't feel comfortable in Alistair's body. She felt like an intruder, watching life through someone else's eyes. It was a more voyeuristic experience than she'd ever been interested in.

_'Honestly, I'm not sure at all.'_ Alistair said cheerfully. _'I'm playing this all by ear. There isn't really a precedent for this situation in the 'How to be a Grey Warden' handbook.'_

_'Pity, that.'_ Not that the Grey Wardens sounded like they'd ever be that forthcoming. Outside of Alistair and Elissa, she wouldn't trust them at all. They sounded entirely too secretive and unaccountable to any authority at all.

_'So, what is the plan, then?_' She asked.

_'For now, it's 'Go to the Blackmarsh, close those Veil tears, go to Denerim for the Landsmeet, defeat Loghain, punch the archdemon in the face, and go home with nary a kipper scuffed.' Unless you have any other ideas, of course.'_

_'How could I possibly have amendments to such a brilliant, well-thought-out plan?'_ Echo asked wearily.

_'That's what I thought, too, but I just wanted to check. Solidarity and all that, you know.'_ Alistair bantered, as he trudged through swampy marshland. _'We have to be almost to the Blackmarsh now, it's been a week since we left Soldier's Peak.'_

_'Don't you people have map technology?'_ How did they stand never knowing exactly where they were?

_'Yes, my people do possess that ability.'_ Alistair joked. _'We just prefer to determine our destination by tossing blackened chicken bones into a pot.'_

_'Fantastic.'_

Alistair just smiled, and brought his boot up out of the mud. It made a loud sucking sound, and he laboriously plunged it down again in front of him.

_'Why would anyone ever live here?_' Alistair wondered. _'I don't think I've ever been anywhere so unpleasant that didn't have any demons visible.'_

_'I can think of a few places I found less pleasant than a muddy bit of land.'_ She peered out into the seemingly endless marshland in front of them. _'Is that a sign over there?'_

Alistair looked over in the direction she indicated. _'Yes, it is.' _He slowly made his way to it, and grinned.

"Says here that we're about to enter the town of Blackmarsh!" Alistair called back, and they heard more than one sigh of relief in the background.

_'Doesn't that mean we have to fight demons?'_ Echo asked, bewildered that anyone would be excited at such a prospect.

_'Yes, but it also means camp, and once we're done with this, we get to go to Denerim. We've already been through quite a bit during this Blight, and the end is now in sight for all of us.'_ Alistair reasoned, and readied his shield.

"Ready to go in?" Elissa asked, and everyone nodded after readying their weapons.

"All right." Alistair took up the front, and entered the edge of the town.

"What happened here?" Leliana asked, as she eyed the sunken ruins of homes scattered out before them.

Elissa shrugged her shoulders, but kept her eyes roaming for any signs of trouble. "No one really knows. The town was suddenly deserted during the rebellions, but no one was able to look into it. And after… it had been deserted so long that people just tended to their own situations at home. It is surprising that the Howe family never bothered to look into it, but then again my personal experience is that Arl Howe is a selfish, backstabbing twat. So he probably wasn't all that concerned for the welfare of a few peasants."

_'Not much you can say to that.' _Echo said wryly. _'You think she may be bitter?'_

_'For good reason.'_ Alistair inserted, peering sadly into another dilapidated home._ 'He had her entire family slaughtered.'_

_'I didn't say there wasn't a good reason. Just that she's bitter.'_ She said calmly.

A dreadful howl sounded off dangerously close to their right, and Alistair unsheathed his sword quickly. Three werewolves leapt out of the inky darkness and directly into their path, fangs dripping with what appeared to be a mixture of blood and saliva. Morrigan flinched and reflexively sent out a nasty fireball that scorched her palms. She didn't seem to care about the wound, instead focusing on the way their opponents went up like greasy torches. One of them dropped to the mud and began to roll desperately. Shale merely raised a foot and leaned over so that she could bring her massive stone heel down on his head and cracked it open like a watermelon.

_'Do you people even realize how terrifying you are?'_

_'Er. I suppose we are a bit intimidating as a group.'_ Alistair admitted.

_'Just a bit.'_ Echo deadpanned. _'If I had legs, I would use them to make sure I was a continent away from you. I can't believe anything attacks you on purpose.'_

"Don't panic, Morrigan." Alistair teased. "Shale and I can save you from the rabid dogs."

"Tis I who saved myself, you flea-ridden jackanape!" Morrigan snapped.

Alistair just shrugged and smiled, while Morrigan fumed.

_'She's gonna light you on fire.'_ Echo stated._ 'And I wouldn't blame her.'_

_'Whose side are you on, anyway?'_ Alistair demanded. _'She's a witch who could turn me into a toad.'_

_'And you're poking her in the eye with a stick.'_

_'You may have a point there._' Alistair begrudged. _'But she's really awful to me.'_

She gaped. _'Seriously, who raised you? Be the bigger person here. Stop inciting the wrath of the crazy woman who throws lightning around like pebbles.'_

_'Who are you, my mother?'_ Alistair retorted, and then grew suddenly quiet._ 'Oh, I made myself feel bad.'_

Was is even possible for there to be a silent, awkward moment between two people sharing a consciousness?

Apparently so, as it turned out.

Silence reigned in the Blackmarsh as they calmly cut through the small bands of darkspawn and blighted creatures. Echo grew bored watching Alistair bludgeon darkspawn into death's icy grip and instead began to drift off, thinking in particular about how much she wished she couldn't smell the fetid swamp water, coppery blood, and rotting corpses. It was a particularly disgusting combination, truth be told.

"What in hell are those things?" Elissa shrieked, and gestured to Morrigan emphatically.

That effectively shook Echo out of her thoughts, and she looked to their surroundings. The clearing they'd come to was full of large, white cocoons. Most of them were obviously underdeveloped, but a few were large and looked to be ready to burst.

Sure enough, they heard sounds like cotton clothes ripping, and some of the cocoons were torn apart from the inside by the most disgusting thing Echo had seen yet. It looked like a long, nasty grub, with a distorted human-like face. Its teeth appeared sharp, and worse yet, it had a large amount of insect-like legs to propel it directly towards Alistair and Elissa.

Alistair gagged a bit at the sight, and Morrigan wasted no time lighting the other cocoons on fire. The few grub-things that had hatched launched themselves directly at Alistair, and only by leaping backwards did he avoid having his head taken off by a particularly enthusiastic monster. Zevran tossed a fire flask into the space that Alistair had vacated, and the monsters gave off a keening cry like a human infant before collapsing on the ground.

Elissa froze momentarily at the sound, and a grub took advantage of her vulnerability and launched itself at her side, taking out a chunk of her thigh.

"Aaaagh!" Elissa screamed, and brought down the edge of her shield on the beast to chop it in half. The blood and guts exploded out of the creature, and coated Elissa from head to toe. The grub's head was still attached to her thigh, teeth embedded deeply into her flesh. She hit it continually with her sword in panic while crying in pain and frustration, while Alistair and the rest of the group carefully cut and diced their way through the rest of the grubs.

Elissa finally dislodged the grotesque thing's head from her leg and stood up shakily. She was obviously waery from blood loss, and Wynne would need to tend to her.

"The children!" Echo heard a distorted voice bellow behind them, and Alistair immediately moved to address the threat and place himself between the newcomer and the wounded Elissa.

A large armored darkspawn burst into the clearing and leered at them hatefully.

"You have destroyed the Mother's children!" He screamed, as he took a staff from his back and waved it around menacingly. "You cannot be allowed to live!"

Then he rose the staff up in the air, and Echo realized what he was doing all too late as she felt the connection to the Fade strengthen, like the tension in a taut rubber band, before snapping back immediately to where she could feel nothing at all.

She forced herself to look down at her body to confirm her fears. Wisps of spiritual energy wrapped around an ethereal torso, and she brought a hand to her face and noted that the Fade rippled with her every movement.

"Oh, hell." She breathed, and tried not to weep in despair. Echo looked around herself, but none of Alistair's companions were in her range of vision. "They must have landed somewhere else."

She could see the suddenly-restored Blackmarsh not far in the distance, and heaved a sigh. "Nothing for it, one foot in front of the other." She made her way down the embankment she'd landed on carefully, but twitched when she noticed a smell she recognized. "Sulfur… and rot." She muttered, wrinkling her nose. "Demons. Of course."

It would be best to take care of them first, and then go to the village. The demons would doubtless attack Alistair and his companions later if they were not disposed of now, and then they would risk being swarmed. Perhaps the rest of the party had also been separated, as well, and they would need to be located.

With that in mind, she picked through the strange brambles and terrain of the Fade, and made her way towards one of the tears in the Veil she could sense. When she neared it, she could see a trio of desire demons maintaining the connection, with a contingent of rage demons as guards.

"I don't know that I could kill them by myself." She mused grumpily, and turned away. She would either need a plan, or one of Alistair's companions. Echo was powerful, yes, but not physically so. She had the power to dispose of all the demons, but not in an instant. She would need a strong companion to weather a few blows while she gathered and directed her energy at the demons.

As if answering a silent prayer, she noticed distant movement out of the corner of her eye, and a glint of light reflecting off a craggy surface. Echo silently dropped lower to the ground and moved closer to the source, while keeping an eye on the coven of demons.

Behind a Tevinter statue, she found her quarry. Shale was standing over a pile of rage demons, with a triumphant air. Echo straightened, and cleared her throat a safe distance away.

Shale turned her head quickly. "What is it? Another demon, perhaps? I should squish it like the others."

Echo raised her hands in outwardly calm surrender. "A spirit, but not a demon. Your battle prowess is impressive."

Shale straightened proudly. "Of course it thinks so. I am impressive."

Echo simultaneously agreed, and wanted to roll her eyes. "What is a warrior of such power doing here, in the Fade?"

Shale leaned in and took a few steps closer. Echo was glad she didn't need to breathe, or she would be hyperventilating right now. Any second, Shale could just reach over and… well, it didn't bear thinking about.

"Someone put me here." Shale announced, before checking the general area. "What is it doing here?"

"I am a spirit." Echo calmly countered. "My kind exists in the Fade." Or, you know, in the living world when they could hitch a ride.

"Ah." Shale seemed disinterested now. "It doesn't know how to leave, then?"

Now they were finally getting somewhere.

"I have an idea." Echo said, trying to sound calm. "You and the others that were sent must slay the demons in the area, and lastly the demon that controls this section of the Fade."

Shale stood quietly and examined Echo as if she were a fresh-caught fish on market day. "Very well, then. Where does it think I should go?"

Echo gestured with her ethereal limbs in the direction of the demons she'd found earlier. "I have a good place to start, if you would join me."

Shale nodded decisively. "I do not like this… Fade of yours. I will assist you, spirit," she spat sarcastically, "if that is what it requires to leave this dreadful place."

"At least it doesn't have any birds?" Echo suggested helpfully, and Shale quickly looked to the sky. She examined it carefully for a few moments before staring at Echo again.

Echo shrugged lightly, and turned in the direction of their quarry. She felt more than heard Shale moving behind her, sounds felt so dull in the Fade. It was not unlike listening to music or talking while underwater. Everything was muted and garbled.

She could still feel, though, if she really thought about it. Shale's heavy footsteps made the ground shake lightly behind her, rumbling up to make her body vibrate. It felt almost like having a heartbeat again, the steady pounding driving her forward.

They found the demons just as they'd been before. The desire demons were steadfastly chanting and channeling energy into an altar to maintain the tears in the Fade, as rage demons briskly flowed around the clearing.

"Ready?" Echo turned back to Shale, but Shale was staring at the demons instead of her face. Shale then burst up and barreled into the area. Echo quickly gathered energy to herself and focused it on the desire demons closest to Shale, who was pummeling a rage demon into a fine paste. She rose her hands and made a throwing gesture, as white-hot energy exploded from her see-through fingertips and launched itself into the chest of the first desire demon. The demon shrieked and held its hand to its breast, cupping it awkwardly while grasping desperately into the air for magic of its own. It twitched violently and slumped to the ground, as the energy arced quickly to the second desire demon. It burnt a hole into its skin, but did no more than grievously wound. The second desire demon screeched an obscenity, and pushed its hands together and out to press a wave of demonic energy out at Echo.

Echo made a squeaking noise, but held her hands out reflexively to shield herself with her own energy. The demon's attack hit hard against her defense, but it didn't hurt. She brought her hands out and slammed them down on the ground, causing a shockwave of spirit energy that rippled outwards. As the ground shook, the altar quaked, and the scenery of the Fade winked in and out of existence.

_'The created surroundings can't withstand this much disruption.'_ Echo noted distractedly._ 'The demon that constructed the illusion created too much to maintain. The nitwit.'_

The fact that doing damage to the altar broke the illusion was telling. The altars weren't just a portal into the living world, but a conduit through which thrall demons gave their liege lord power.

_'Some demon's life is about to suck very hard, very soon.'_ She giggled to herself._ 'All Shale and I have to do is break the rest of those altars before we confront it. It will be weak, confused, and mostly unsupported. I almost feel sorry for it.'_

"Shale, we need to smash the altar!" She shouted and pointed. If she wasn't absolutely sure that golems didn't have facial expressions, she would sworn Shale smiled before running up to the altar and bringing both massive fists down upon it.

The altar broke – or rather, was pulverized into ethereal dust- and the few demons left shrieked again.

Echo dodged an incoming swipe from a rage demon, and shoved an energy-covered palm into its chest. The demon froze solid, and she took the opportunity to kick it in the torso. It shattered into thousands of pieces, and Echo vaguely wished that someone else had been there to see it.

Shale tore through the demons like they were made of wet tissue paper, and Echo turned to face the last desire demon. It dove at her with its claws out and tore into her arm. A bitter smile was right in her face, breathing cool air scented of roses directly into her face. Slowly, the desire demon twisted her nails slightly, digging them in to what would have been the bone in a creature made of flesh. As she was thought and magic, the wound was a hold into her very being.

It took a moment for what had happened to register. Echo gasped and stiffened, previously unacquainted with the concept of pain. That- it was so much more intense when not filtered through Alistair's senses. She took too long to react—the other hand jerked towards her heart.

Instinct took over, and Echo found herself with one hand holding the demon's wrist away from her heart, and the other embedded into its chest.

The demon's face was frozen in shock and pain, and the body slumped around her shaking hand.

"Is it all right?" Shale's voice resounded from the other side of the clearing, and Echo slowly turned her head. Suddenly, everything felt very surreal. She had killed demons – on her own – and was up to her forearm in desire demon entrails.

She didn't have a response for this. None of her experiences in her life, the Fade, or in Alistair's body gave her any sort of idea what she was supposed to do now.

Then again, maybe it was obvious. She dropped the demon's arm with her free hand, and laboriously shoved the creature off her trapped limb. She stared at the offending hand blankly, before self-consciously rubbing her hand against her body, even though there wasn't any blood to wipe off.

Shale huffed in the distance, and Echo turned to face her again.

"Sorry," she choked. "My first time disemboweling someone with my hand. You know how it goes."

She felt somewhat light-headed. Could spirits even faint?

Shale grunted. "Are all spirits this weak?"

Echo didn't care enough to be insulted. She shrugged instead. "I never said I was an unstoppable, death-dealing machine. Would you prefer that I leave?"

She wasn't sure whether the question was genuine or not. Echo wanted Alistair and his friends to get out of the Fade alive, but she didn't think she was cut out for this. She didn't like killing – at all – and she obviously didn't have any pain tolerance.

She brought her hands closer to her chest, and rubbed her arms. The wound the demon had given her burned like acid, and she felt like crying. Would it ever heal again? Human's bodies healed with time, but she didn't know if spirits were the same. She wasn't a spirit of Justice, fighting demons all the time.

A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Shale staring back down at her.

"I am separated from my companions, and do not know their location." Shale shared. "Travelling with you seems tolerable, for now."

Echo squared her shoulders, and looked Shale in the eyes. (Or, rather, the pretty gems that were in place of eyes.) "Good." She said, with much more confidence than she felt. "We should take care of the other altars in the area. We might find your friends on the way."

She turned in the direction of the next altar she could sense, and started stomping away. Hopefully, Shale wouldn't notice that her hands were shaking if she moved fast enough.

Luckily, none of the altars were very far from each other, and Echo was actually relieved to see a group of demons in the distance. They might have heard the commotion from their earlier fight, but with one altar destroyed, they couldn't risk leaving theirs.

Echo cracked a smile, and slammed her palms on the ground again to loose another shockwave. The disturbance shook more than a few demons to the ground, and Shale ran over them with all the grace of a semi-trailer without brakes.

This time, Echo didn't hesitate, and mercilessly shot out a bolt of energy into a desire demon's chest. As that one slumped to the ground, the smell of burning plastic hit her nose, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

A rage demon rushed to meet her, and she wasted no time in stopping it dead as she shook her head to clear away the smell.

She ran towards another desire demon. Hopefully, if she didn't give herself enough time to think, she wouldn't be able to panic.

Echo barely dodged another swipe from venomous talons by diving to the side, and brought her hands up to protect her head. The desire demon slashed again with her other hand, and gnashed her teeth wildly in fury.

'So much for not panicking,' Echo thought frantically, as she barely managed to fend off the demon's quick attacks. 'Oh, shit, I'm entirely out of my depth.'

She dropped to the ground to avoid a particularly nasty-looking hit to her chest, and rolled to her left. Echo popped back up immediately, and shoved her hands out with spirit energy.

Evidently she put entirely too much into it, as it sent out a veritable wall that passed through the desire demon, entirely incinerating it. It continued to burn through the Fade, swallowing up the constructed trees, rocks, and outlying buildings.

Echo cringed as it finally stopped near the coastline, and looked around to make sure Shale was still safe.

Shale was standing only a few feet away, staring at the blackened path her attack had carved into the landscape.

"Perhaps it isn't so weak, after all." Shale amended grudgingly, before turning to the altar and smashing it with a single swing. Dust exploded into Echo's face, and she choked on the taste.

"Warn a girl before you do that!" Echo rasped, fanning the air with one hand as she tried to scrape the foul substance off her tongue with her teeth.

Shale huffed, and started walking away.

"You aren't even going the right way." Echo called grumpily, and started to walk off in the direction of the next altar.

She didn't need to turn to know Shale was following, or that she was supremely amused.


	5. Chapter 5

Echo had to admit, she had really missed being in the Fade. She was naturally rather reclusive, and being in Alistair's head was absolutely tedious. He was a nice boy, but he just had so many questions.

"Maybe I can just stay here this time." She murmured happily to herself, conscious of Shale's presence behind her.

That would be nice, actually. Not having to listen to someone wax poetic about cheese and taunt hostile witches. Alistair was exhausting on a good day, full of energy and desperate for approval.

The other days didn't bear thinking about.

"Is this the last altar?" Shale asked, sounding almost bored.

"Yes." Echo confirmed. "Then we'll go into the town and stomp down a bigger demon."

That seemed to perk Shale up considerably as they trundled towards their destination.

As they grew closer, the unmistakable sounds of metal clashing and guttural grunts permeated the air.

"I think we found your party!" Echo called back at Shale, who picked up her pace to burst into the clearing.

Echo followed closely behind, and slipped into the clearing quietly.

Alistair was gutting a desire demon, while Sten had cut one in half. Morrigan shot out a mass of icicles from her hands, which speared right through two rage demons.

Wynne, however, was tending to Elissa.

Elissa seemed to be… fading, for lack of a better word. She was slumped on the ground, eyes staring vacantly into the sky, both hands lying on the ground uselessly.

Echo went to them first. The fighters had been doing well enough on their own, and now they had Shale. She wasn't needed to take care of a few severely outnumbered demons. Everyone was too busy fighting to notice her as she slid past and moved beside Wynne.

"What's wrong?" She asked Wynne, already feeling some level of attachment to the woman.

Wynne didn't look up, still concentrating on healing her patient. It didn't seem to be doing any good, however.

"I don't know." Wynne admitted. "She did have a nasty injury before we were trapped in here, so maybe she just isn't feeling well."

"That's true." Echo admitted. "Anything I can do to help?"

Wynne looked up then, and Echo watched her face rocket from confusion to understanding in a matter of seconds. "You're Alistair's friend, aren't you?"

"The one and only." Echo admitted.

Wynne looked back to Elissa, and tensed her jaw. "Would you look at her? Perhaps you'll see something I do not."

Echo acquiesced, and kneeled down next to Elissa's prone form. Her face was sunken, like she hadn't eaten or slept in days, and her eyes were blank. "Has she been responding at all?" Echo asked, noting that her breaths were very shallow and forced.

Wynne shook her head. "She seemed fine at first, but then she just collapsed. She hasn't spoken since. I wonder…"

"If she isn't fighting for her life." Echo agreed. "She can't focus on both things right now. The damage from those weird grub-things could be doing a lot of harm to her body."

Wynne nodded sadly. "Is there anything you can do?"

Echo slumped her shoulders, and wracked her brain. Nothing came to mind. "Nothing I can think of." She admitted. "I think it's all up to her, now. The damage is to her body, and we won't be able to fix it until we get back. All we can do for her is get her out of the Fade as soon as possible."

Wynne suddenly looked so very small and vulnerable. It was an off-putting look for her, and ill-suited to her personality.

"Shale and I took care of the other three altars." Echo offered, running her fingers through Elissa's hair comfortingly. "The demon here should be much weakened, and is the last obstacle to our leaving the Fade."

Wynne looked grateful at that. "Thank the Maker for small mercies." She breathed, hands wrapped around Elissa's.

"We're done here." Alistair called, as the telltale crunching in the distance signaled the demise of another altar. "We can go into Blackmarsh now."

"Can we lift her?" Echo asked, gesturing towards Elissa with her head, and Wynne nodded.

"Weight doesn't seem to make much of a difference here." Wynne said quietly. "Either of us should be able to carry her without much impediment."

"I'll do it, then." Echo offered. "I'm not much of a fighter. Don't have a killer instinct at all, apparently. Shale's been snickering at me the whole time."

Wynne offered a small, but honest smile that made Echo feel warm inside.

"She does tend to do that." She said quietly, eyes lingering on Elissa's pale face. "Thank you."

Echo nodded, not trusting herself to not say something insensitive or awkward in the moment. She slipped an arm around Elissa's waist, and hauled her up onto her feet.

Alistair took point, and Echo travelled towards the back of the group, with Shale and Wynne. It was a surprisingly short walk into Blackmarsh, though it was still awkward dragging a comatose woman behind her.

When they reached the town, they were surprised to find it deserted.

"I can hear voices, but where are they?" Leliana asked, fingers twitching along the shaft of an arrow.

"By the gates to the mansion, maybe?" Alistair offered, and turned them in that direction.

Echo could hear the voices now, too, as they drew closer to the gates. People were shouting and murmuring, stamping their feet into the ground.

"It's a mob." Zevran said amusedly, confirming her suspicions.

When she turned the corner to join the rest of the group, she was petrified to see a spirit of Justice at the head of the mob. When he felt her presence, he turned to the group and parted the crowd to come to them.

"Another spirit, and others trapped in the Fade." Justice stated evaluatingly, staring at Echo. "Are you here to help the good people trapped here?"

The entire group turned to look at her, and Morrigan narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"She is with me." Shale stated, and everyone tensed slightly in surprise. "I found it wandering the Fade, and I'm keeping it." Morrigan actually looked shell-shocked, which was rather amusing.

"I would also vouch for her." Wynne offered, and most of the party relaxed. Echo turned her gaze back to Justice slowly.

"I'm here with these people, but that is our goal, yes." Echo said carefully. "I was unaware the people had been trapped here, though I had my suspicions. What demon did this?"

She reflexively tried to gesture to the scene around her, but belatedly realized that she was still holding Elissa up. Echo readjusted her hold to make sure Elissa didn't slip out of her grip, and looked up at Justice again.

"A demon of Pride." Justice confided solemnly. "At one time, she was their Baronness, but the demon has long since taken over. I have been working tirelessly with these people, trying to secure their freedom. Perhaps with the help of your comrades, we will finally make her answer for her crimes."

"Sounds peachy." She said, already exhausted just listening to him. Spirits of Justice never did seem to know when to shut up. Couldn't pick their battles, they had to fight every injustice, from people trapped by demons to someone receiving a slightly smaller slice of pizza. "Sound good to you guys?" She asked, addressing Alistair and his group.

"We had to kill it anyway to leave." Alistair shrugged. "It doesn't change anything for us."

"All right, then!" Justice perked up. "Let us take the battle to her!"

With that, he turned authoritatively towards the gate, and indicated that they should follow him. Alistair grunted, but hung back near Echo as the rest of the team walked towards the gate.

"You look different." Alistair said. "Last time you were just like a person-shaped mist."

"I look different?" She asked, looking down at her body. It looked the same to her as it always did, if maybe a little more clear. "So what do I look like now?"

"You're obviously a girl." Alistair said. "I can see that you have long, braided hair. And you're wearing pants."

"I always did prefer pants." She admitted. "Skirts are kind of a pain on a daily basis. Plus, I sit like a barbarian, and it isn't decent with a skirt."

Alistair choked out a surprised laugh. "You're kind of pretty."

"And you're pretty awkward." She rejoined. "Hitting on a dead girl, shame on you. Don't you have a demon to chop in half somewhere?"

Alistair smiled, but it lost its luster as his eyes travelled over Elissa's form slumped over Echo's shoulder.

"Is she going to be ok?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know." She admitted. "But the sooner we get out of here, the better. So we should really go take care of this demon, now."

Alistair nodded, and his eyes hardened. He turned to the gate and joined the rest of the team, with Echo trailing awkwardly behind him.

"You must contend with us now, demon!" Justice roared, and Echo wished she had use of her arms to cover her ears from the horrendous noise.

The gates swung open with a loud clang.

"All right, spirit." A woman's voice echoed throughout the courtyard. "If you insist, I will dispose of you and those worthless villagers. You have become a menace."

The group rushed in, led by Justice.

"Fight us, demon!" he shouted, as Echo shuffled in through the gates behind them. She didn't want to involve Elissa in the fight, but on the off-chance they were outside when the group departed and got left in the Fade… well, it didn't look good for Elissa already.

A beautiful but harsh-looking woman in fine clothes leaned over from the balcony and surveyed them disinterestedly. "If I must, you relentless spirit." She glided down from the balcony elegantly, and joined them in the courtyard.

With a wave of her hand, the gate behind Echo slammed shut. The noise nearly knocked her onto the ground, and she barely managed to brace herself from leaping away.

"You must answer for your crimes, demon." Justice growled. "You stole these peoples' children, drained their blood for your rituals-"

"As was my due!" The woman snapped, suddenly dispelling any illusions of disaffected grandeur she had previously affected. "I was their Baroness! Their lives were mine to do with as I pleased!"

"Charming." Alistair muttered under his breath. "I'm gonna smite her so hard."

"Do so." Sten advised.

With a winning smile, Alistair used a Holy Smite on the Baronness, who fell to the ground immediately.

"I'd have a trial for you, but I'm sure you're guilty, seeing as, you know, all these people are trapped in here." Alistair said sarcastically. "So how about we just carry out the sentence and be done with it."

"FOOL!" The Baronness screamed, as her voice took on a decidedly less human tone. "I WILL DESTROY YOU!"

With that, she rose to her feet and her form began to shake. Her body began to contort and stretch, making a sound like tearing cloth.

No one waited for her to finish transforming, however. Sten rushed at her with her sword held high, and cut right across the new large thigh of the Pride demon.

Zevran dove in to stab the demon in the back, and it screeched at the pain. The demon reached behind itself to grab Zevran off of its back, but he had already jumped off and dove at its ankles.

Alistair bludgeoned it with his shield, and began to weave around, attacking its torso.

Wynne called up a healing aura to assist the fighters, while Morrigan and Leliana attacked it from a distance with arrows and fireballs.

"NO!" The demon screamed, and rose its meaty hands into the air. "I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL!" It brought its hands back down to the ground, and released a shockwave of demonic energy.

_'That feels really nasty when it's happening to you.'_ Echo noted, feeling disoriented and in extreme pain. Somehow, she had dropped Elissa, because she no longer felt like she was lifting any weight at all, and she struggled to look up to assess the damage.

_'SHIT.'_ She thought, somehow behind the confines of Alistair's mind again. _'That witch sent us back into the living world.'_

_'At least that means Elissa is back here._' She reassured herself._ 'And Peaches wasn't in the Fade. He was probably guarding her body out here the whole time.'_

A scream exited Alistair's mouth, as he launched himself forward to slice at the recovering Pride demon.

The demon roared, and batted him away like a tiny butterfly. Alistair's chest plate crunched in with a sickening sound, and Echo could feel bones breaking.

_'Time to earn my keep, then!'_ she put her concentration to fixing the massive amount of internal damage. Alistair didn't even seem to notice the injuries, as he picked himself up with what had to be pure adrenaline and threw himself back at the Pride demon.

Alistair took a large chunk of the demon's arm with him this time, as he was propelled backwards by the demon's vicious shaking.

Echo could see out of her peripheral vision that Wynne was struggling to keep up with all the injuries, but that Elissa now seemed to be fine. She was parrying blows and bashing expertly at the demon.

_'That woman has no fear.'_ She noted with no small amount of admiration, and went back to fixing Alistair's ruptured insides with single-minded determination. He seemed hell-bent on tearing this demon limb from spiky limb, even if he had to gore himself to do it.

_'Alistair, stop getting hit.'_ She commanded crossly a few minutes later, fixing his ribs again. _'I demand that you stop getting in front of things that will cause you blunt force trauma.'_

He didn't seem to hear her, though she didn't blame him. The fight was hard enough without distractions, the demon was disconcertingly strong.

_'Echo, it's opening a portal, get it!'_ Alistair shrieked, and Echo snapped to attention. The work was done quickly enough, and she went back to repairing the damage done to Alistair's arm when the demon bashed into his shield directly.

_'Another one!'_ Alistair directed, and Echo tiredly severed the connection. The work was wearying enough on its own, and she'd already been in direct combat today. She still hurt from the wound the desire demon had given her, as well. It burned painfully, as if to punish her for even momentarily forgetting its presence, and she let out a cry in pain.

'It's almost dead.' Alistair stated, apparently mistaking her anguish for impatience. 'It may try to open another portal again, though.'

'All right.' She gasped out, because she felt it would be rude to not answer.

She lapsed in and out of awareness for the next few minutes, gathering herself only to heal massive lethal damage, and closing a few more portals to the Fade.

When the horrific thing finally fell dead to the ground, she would have cheered if she could summon up the strength.

"At last, the demon is dead." Elissa said in a strident tone.

Except it wasn't Elissa.

The group as a whole either froze or lurched aggressively. "Who are you?" Alistair demanded, rounding in on the thing in Elissa's body. "Another demon?"

Elissa's body rose up both hands in surrender. "Fear not, mortal. I am no demon. I am the spirit of Justice from the Fade. When we were pulled back into the living world, I was put into this deceased body."

You could have heard a pin drop, and Echo felt like crying out of exhaustion and frustration. After all that, Elissa hadn't made it. She'd probably been dead in the Fade when she'd collapsed, and they'd been carting around a comatose soul the whole time.

"Maker." Alistair whispered, and collapsed onto his knees. "What do we do now?"

Justice-in-Elissa's-body paused, and appeared to be thinking. "This body has memories of fighting darkspawn, and the Blight. There is also an… event involving their family that requires justice. If you do not mind my company, I would assist you in avenging this body. It was taken most cravenly from the world, and I would see its goals met."

Alistair nodded dumbly, mouth open in shock. "…Sure. Of course." He rose to his feet as if under some sort of trance. "I need to leave this place. Now."

Everyone followed Alistair out of the Blackmarsh, and along the long winding path back to their camp.

No one said a word.

* * *

The week's march to Denerim was a silent and somber affair. Justice, luckily, rarely felt the need to speak, which made the transition slightly easier.

The one taking it worst was undoubtably Peaches. The Mabari had been beside Elissa's body even as Justice awoke in it, apparently. After the fight, the dog had followed them silently from a distance, but hadn't approached the group. Every night, they could hear him howling in mourning for hours.

No one had the gall to tell the dog to stop being devastated, at least. Mabari were notorious for bonding with their owners, and for a dog to outlive its owner was a rare thing.

Echo spent most of those days recovering from her wound and severe exhaustion. The wound hadn't fully healed yet, and perhaps it never would, but her energy had come back steadily. Actually, there may have been more of it than there was before.

That had happened before, however. Back when she had spent time with the Magisters of old, she had worked herself to the point of exhaustion. The more she used her powers, the more they increased, as did her efficiency with them. It had just been so long since she had pushed her limits fully that she had forgotten it could happen.

She was still somewhat hazy when they reached Denerim, but Alistair reassured her that he should rarely need her while they were there.

That was a good thing, in truth. She needed at least another week before she would be able to heal him like that again.

_'Echo?'_ Alistair queried, and she roused herself slowly.

_'I am here.'_ She called back softly, shielding her eyes from the light that shone down onto her face.

_'I've been wondering, what happens when people die?'_ Alistair shifted uncomfortably.

Elissa, of course. He must have been worrying over that for some time now.

_'I was alive once, you know.'_ She started gently. _'I don't remember how I died, or how long it took me to get there, but eventually I found myself in the Fade.'_

_'What was it like?'_ Alistair mumbled. _'Did it hurt?'_

_'It doesn't hurt at all, Alistair.'_ She reassured him. _'It was … disorienting, more than anything. Mostly, new spirits just need their time to get their bearings. Eventually, they find their place.'_

Alistair groaned. _'And what does that even mean?'_

_'I think she'll end up a spirit of justice, so long as she doesn't wallow forever.'_ Echo mused thoughtfully. _'I think she'd be good at that.'_

_'And what happens if she wallows?'_ Alistair asked miserably. _'Does she become a demon?'_

_'She could.'_ Echo admitted. _'Everyone can go either way. It depends more on what you want to do, to be honest. If she's really bitter about Justice taking over her body, or other things, time and her own anger will warp her away from herself. If she lets go of that and doesn't want anyone to suffer, she'll gradually drop her mortal baggage and take her place as a spirit of the Fade.'_

_'Is the Fade where everyone goes?'_ Alistair asked, and his physical hands twitched.

_'Not exactly.'_ She said wearily, wrapping herself around Alistair's presence again. _'Some people no longer come to the Fade when they die, like your Tranquil.'_

_'They aren't coming to the Fade when they die?'_ Alistair's face contorted in fear._ 'Then what's happening to them?'_

_'I don't know. That is why I was initially interested in learning about your world.'_ She admitted. _'Their souls should be returning to the Fade regardless of their mortal shackles.'_

_'So, the Tranquil ritual is destroying their souls…'_ Alistair gaped in horror at the campfire. Luckily, no one was awake to see the lapse in control.

_'That is my hypothesis.'_ She agreed. _'But I do not know. I would need to examine Tranquils and see the ritual to be able to determine the severity of the damage.'_

_'My world is broken, isn't it.'_ Alistair groaned pitifully. _'People using blood magic, slaughtering innocents, and the Chantry is actually destroying people's souls.'_

_'It does look to be that way.'_ Echo said, conflicted. _'But perhaps you may change things, now that you know that these problems exist.'_

_'Maybe.'_ Alistair said doubtfully. _'I don't think the Chantry will like being told what to do.'_

_'It's a good thing that they have no business interfering with matters of state, then, isn't it?'_ Echo said, a bit snippily. _'Mages will be your people, too, Alistair. That the Chantry is allowed to slaughter them wholesale without even consulting someone is nothing short of genocide.'_

_'I'm guessing genocide is a bad thing.'_ Alistair puzzled.

_'The killing of a large group of people.'_ Echo clarified. _'It usually applies to specific subsets of the population, either by ethnicity or other distinguishing characteristic.'_

_'Ah.'_ Alistair grunted. _'Why does the Chantry get to do that, anyway?'_

_'That's the question I've been asking since I heard of the Circle and Tranquils in the first place.'_ She grumbled. _'I suspect it's because the former rulers were followers of the Chantry, and gave them far more power than they should have out of some misplaced sense of duty.'_

_'I'm an Andrastian, just so you know.'_ Alistair said defensively.

Echo giggled tiredly. _'Good for you. That doesn't mean every one of your people is, and you shouldn't force them.'_

_'Fair point.'_ Alistair conceded._ 'So maybe one religious group shouldn't hold the power of life and death over Ferelden's citizens.'_

_'Or anyone else's.'_ She corrected_. 'That's a matter for the government, not a privately based organization, no matter how charitable they claim to be.'_

Alistair sat quietly for a moment, obviously deep in thought. Echo amused herself by watching the fire rise and crackle, and had lost herself in a trance by the time Alistair cleared his throat and got her attention.

_'Arl Eamon is putting me forward as a candidate for the throne.'_ He said, voice filled with loathing. _'You were right about the whole thing. He spent the whole time talking to Justice instead of me, thinking it was Elissa. He didn't even consult me, just seemed to think I'd do whatever he asked.'_

_'And what do you think?'_ Echo asked, wishing she could stretch herself out properly.

_'I don't want him thinking he can control me.'_ Alistair said shortly. _'I won't be doing whatever he wants, just because he wants it when I'm King.'_

_'So you've already decided.'_ She inserted. _'Sounds like you have, anyway.'_

Alistair stopped short.

_'I suppose I have.'_ He admitted. _'But I'm not sure I want to marry Anora, which is what it sounds like I'd have to do to secure the populace.'_

_'You don't have to marry her if you don't want to.'_ She asserted. _'Probably.'_

_'I'm also really going to think about what you said earlier.'_ Alistair said quietly.

She squinted, and tried to remember what she would have said earlier that would apply to this particular situation. She didn't come up with anything, but it wasn't surprising. Echo was still rather exhausted.

_'About taking Eamon and his wife to trial.'_

Oh, that.

_'Good plan.'_ She congratulated him._ 'I think you'll be a great King. I think your first order of business should be to find me a golem body, so I can travel the world.'_

_'I don't think they'll let a golem on a boat.'_ Alistair joked, losing some of the seriousness he'd affected earlier.

_'Pshh. They would if the King of Ferelden told them to. Besides, if they won't, I'll just walk across the ocean floor. I doubt golems can drown.'_ She jibed, and curled up into a ball again.

_'Get some rest.'_ Alistair commanded gently. _'We've just gotten some disturbing news that Anora has been kidnapped, and we're going to go rescue her. I'll wake you if I need you.'_

_'Be sure that you do.'_ She yawned. _'I want to know what this Queen looks like. I bet she's ten feet tall and has a sneer that would peel paint.'_

Alistair just smiled, and let her drift back off to rest.

When she awoke again later, Alistair was in some sort of cell.

_'Hey, what happened?' _She demanded.

_'Ah, about that.'_ Alistair deadpanned, _'The thing with Anora was a trap. We killed that bastard Howe and released her, but Loghain's second-in-command caught us. Justice and I are stuck in a cell in Fort Drakon, until our brave rescuers get here.'_

_'Can't you rescue yourselves?'_ She asked boredly. _'Don't get me wrong, you two make for beautiful damsels in distress, but I was under the impression that you were trying to take care of things.'_

_'I am.'_ Alistair said defensively. _'Just waiting until the guard comes back, so we can knock him out and take the keys.'_

_'Ah.'_ She acknowledged. _'Much better. Because I can't imagine Sten and Morrigan coming to save us.'_

_'Shale might come to rescue you.'_ Alistair said, amused. _'I had to tell them what was happening now that Justice came back with us. He helpfully pointed out Wynne and I as renting space to spirits, completely unsolicited.'_

_'Why would she come for me?'_ Echo asked, though secretly pleased.

_'She said that you were interesting, and good at finding things for her to crush. She thought you got on well, I suspect.'_ Alistair stretched out and popped his back against the cold steel bars, which felt remarkably good now that she was paying some attention to the physical realities of their body. _'Well, actually, she said that in the Fade she claimed you, and that you'd be much happier spending time with a golem than stuck in a squishy human body. I just read between the lines.'_

_'And to think Morrigan is under the impression you're illiterate.'_ She jibed. _'But look at you now.'_

_'The most terrifying part is, I'm learning.'_ Alistair responded. _'I'm definitely not marrying Anora, by the way. I'm almost certain that she sold us into that trap in the first place, and she certainly didn't bother to defend us when Ser Cauthrien the Mustached accused us of trying to kill her.'_

She decided not to ask.

_'That does sound like a shaky base for a happy marriage.'_ She agreed absentmindedly.

Alistair smiled tiredly and stared out the cell doors, as a man shuffled slowly into the room. His left leg dragged slightly behind the right, which seemed to stem from an old hip injury. His hands were holding two trays of bread and wine, and Echo could hear more than see the set of keys secured to his hip.

"Dinner." The older man announced gruffly, and dropped the trays to the ground. He slid the trays under the slit in the door, and glared at them.

Alistair gamely grabbed his tray, and took a long swig of the wine within. It was horrifically bitter, and burned going down the throat.

_'You're sure he didn't poison you?'_ Echo asked, still grimacing from the taste.

Alistair choked, and grabbed at his throat. Echo panicked, but then she realized that he was doing it on purpose.

The guard stared down at them in abject horror, and Justice rushed up to the door of the cell.

"Sir, he needs medical treatment!" Justice demanded in Elissa's voice. "If he dies on your watch, I suspect Loghain will be very unhappy. He would die before going to trial."

The man instantly froze in shock and fear, and then suddenly started pulling at the keys on his belt frantically. He found the one he was looking for, and unlocked the cell door as quickly as he could.

He had barely opened it before Justice brought a fist down on the man's head, knocking him out cold.

"Let's leave." Alistair said, standing up and brushing the dust off his pants, as Justice kindly dragged the man to a bed and placed him on it. "I really do hope that the kitchens in Eamon's manor have something better than this for us to eat. I'm sure we've missed dinner."

* * *

They snuck out of Fort Drakon with hardly any issues (kind of crap security, that), and found themselves at Eamon's estate before bed time.

"Ah, Warden, Alistair." Eamon greeted from the study as they walked by, and Alistair twitched slightly in irritation.

_'Like I'm the senior Warden, or something.'_ Alistair grumbled, and Echo sympathized.

_'Well, to be honest, neither of you are Wardens anymore. You're going to need to do something about that.'_ She pointed out.

_'…That is very true.' _Alistair admitted. _'And Riordan did say that Wardens were absolutely necessary to killing the Archdemon.'_

_'I still find the Wardens a very unappealing organization.' _She scoffed. _'Secrets upon secrets, and none of them with any culpability.'_

_'But they're right in this case.' _Alistair reasoned, and she huffed in response.

_'There's no reason to not tell them that only a Grey Warden can kill an Archdemon by tricking it and absorbing its soul.'_ She reasoned. _'If they'd done that, Loghain wouldn't have tried to have you all killed off after Ostagar. He's definitely unbalanced, but he seems to do what he thinks is best for Ferelden. No reason to throw wave after wave of his own men on darkspawn swords pointlessly, if only a Warden can end it.'_

_'That is also a fair point.'_ Alistair conceded. _'So what should we do, then?'_

_'Get rid of Loghain and get a Warden in one fell swoop._' She suggested. _'And maybe Ser Mustache, if she's going to be a problem.'_

_'And many dwarves in the Legion of the Dead would likely take the chance to be able to better fight the darkspawn.'_ Alistair contemplated. _'I have more potential recruits than I thought.'_

_'See?'_ She said, giving the sense of opening her arms widely, _'The world is your oyster. Or whatever. Not nearly so bad as you thought earlier. And you saved the relatives of two nobles in the Landsmeet when you were in Howe's Denerim estate. That's more political support, once you talk to them.'_

Alistair straightened visibly, and she smiled.

"Alistair?" a female voice called from behind them, and Alistair's face instantly contorted into a scowl. He wiped it cleanly from his face, and turned.

"Yes, Queen Anora." He greeted calmly, and walked towards the woman in the hallway.

Echo was less than impressed. This woman didn't look like much at all, and she certainly wasn't a giant like Zevran had said. She'd been vaguely hoping for a Qunari, actually.

"May I speak with you for a moment?" the woman asked, but anyone could tell it was only phrased as a question for form's sake.

"Of course." Alistair agreed calmly, and followed Anora into another bedroom. She sat primly in a large chair at the front of the room, leaving Alistair to stand. She eyed him with a smug look on her face, and rose her chin.

_'You should go sit over on the couch over there.'_ Echo said. _'She's trying to make you uncomfortable by making you stand in her presence for a long time. Classic negotiation tactic, she's making you choose between social convention and comfort. But if you sit down, you'll throw her off. It's not even technically a breach of conduct, she's not acting as the Queen here.'_

_'I hate this woman.'_ Alistair confided within the safe confines of his mind.

_'I'm not really a fan so far, either.'_ Echo shrugged.

Alistair didn't miss a beat, and strode across the room to seat himself comfortably on the couch. It forced Anora to turn her head at an uncomfortable angle to address him, and as Echo predicted, she looked like she was in shock.

She recovered quickly, though.

"I am glad to see you returned safely, Alistair." Anora said politely, as she turned in her chair to make looking at him less uncomfortable.

"I'm sure." Alistair said darkly. "I am glad to see you unharmed, as well. I trust Ser Cauthrien was vastly more genteel in her handling of you and your handmaid."

Anora had the grace to look abashed. "I do apologize for not coming to your aid, but I am sure you understand why I did so. I would have been putting myself in danger for retaliation from my father if I defended you."

Her voice was almost dripping with condescension, did she think Alistair wouldn't notice?

"Of course." Alistair agreed easily. "After all, one would hardly expect Ferelden's Queen to ever exhibit the courage it is known for."

Her left eye twitched.

"I do have a question for you, my Queen." Alistair continued, ignoring Anora's building irritation. "Are there any other situations to which I should attend?"

Apparently the conversation was going right where Anora wanted it, because she straightened her spine and smiled prettily.

Echo did note that the smile didn't reach her eyes, though. What a pity.

"Why, yes, there is something." Anora cocked her head to the side in a mannerism her father must have found endearing as a child. "There is disquiet with the elves in the Alienage. I am sure that if you go there, you will find more evidence that will be useful in your endeavors."

"Any ideas on what is happening there?" Alistair stared right at Anora, and she blinked in response.

"No, I am afraid not." She demurred, placing her hands together on her lap in a calculated submissive gesture. "My father has taken most of my duties from me in his term of Regency."

She could feel Alistair's eyebrow rising in dry amusement. "You don't say."

He leaned back into his chair, and steepled his hands together. "Is there anything else you would like to discuss?"

Anora smiled again. "Why, yes, there is. I have a proposal for you, Alistair. I know that you do not want to rule as King, and are ill-suited for the role. I would like to offer you this: either you may endorse me at the Landsmeet, or take me as your Queen. I would be happy to continue the duties I have taken during my reign, and I am sure that you would be happier without the immense responsibilities that accompany becoming King."

Anora spread her arms lightly, and then brought them back to her lap. "You and Cailan are very alike, you know. Very charming, very good with people. But Cailan found no joy in ruling."

Alistair's temperature began rising rapidly in irritation.

_'Calm down, Alistair.'_ Echo advised. _'And don't say yes or no. She's tricky.'_

Alistair gave a quick, false smile to Anora in response. "I will consider what you have said." He rose from his chair and crossed the room towards the door. Anora looked utterly confused. "If you will excuse me, I have had a long day, and require some rest."

He swept out the door as quickly as he could without anyone being able to say he ran, and escaped to his room, where he shut and bolted the door.

_'She was expecting me to leap at it.'_ Alistair fumed. _'She really thought I'd just abandon everything because it was convenient.'_

_'And you might have, when I met you.'_ She reasoned. _'But it doesn't matter now. You'll get the vote in the Landsmeet, and you can make her your Grand Cleric of Paperwork or something and make her utterly miserable.'_

_'I like the way you think.'_ Alistair said, obviously absorbed in the mental image her suggestion generated. _'But I thought it might make more sense to make her Teyrna of Gwaren, because Loghain certainly isn't keeping it. It would have been hers to inherit had she not married Cailan, and she's already used to ruling. That might keep her satisfied.'_

_'I wouldn't bet on it.'_ Echo mumbled.

* * *

Hello, beautiful people! And before I am assaulted with demands for Burdens or anything else, I want you to know that I am still working on my other stories. Nothing has been abandoned. I just got lost on the road of life, and it was pretty time consuming.


	6. Chapter 6

_'Are all Alienages this depressing, or is it just this one?'_ Echo queried honestly. It was for the best that they had made Justice stay behind at the estate, really. He may have tried to bathe Denerim in blood and fire after two minutes in the Alienage.

It was filthy and shabby, and the people were starving. The elves that didn't outright glare at the humans in their party seemed to do their level best to sink into the blood-stained dirt.

_'I think they're all not nice, but this is the worst I've seen by far.'_ Alistair replied, frowning at the sight of rotting Mabari corpses on the side of the street. _'There's far too much wrong here for it to have been a recent event.'_

_'Then ask.'_ She offered. _'If you have coin, spend it. Feed a few of the orphan children, and they'll probably tell you everything you want to know. It's not like you can't go back to the estate to find lunch, anyway. An adult isn't going to tell you anything, regardless of how nice you are. I doubt they're very trusting of humans.'_

_'Fair point, that.'_ Alistair conceded, and reached into his bag. He winced as if pained as a small child saw the movement from ten feet away and flattened herself against the nearest wall.

_'Feed that one.'_ She said, angry and frustrated with the entire situation.

_'How?'_ Alistair asked in monotone. _'She isn't going to get near me.'_

_'Hold out the food.'_ She directed. _'Palm up.'_

Alistair did as directed, and the girl's eyes shot wide in recognition. She didn't move closer, however, for she was obviously more afraid of retribution than starvation.

_'It isn't working.'_ Alistair whined in desperation. _'She's too afraid.'_

_'It is working.'_ Echo said with determination. _'She needed to see what you were offering. Now put it on the ground, on that clean napkin you kept it in.'_

Alistair slumped his shoulders, but followed her directions.

_'Now back away a bit, but watch her from a distance, ok? She needs to trust you.'_

Alistair took a few shuffling steps backwards, and held his arms out so that the rest of his group did the same.

The instant she judged he was a safe distance away, the girl broke terrified eye contact with him and dove at the food on the ground. She snatched it up with grimy, bony fingers and ran back to her corner. She looked at Alistair again, but he didn't move.

She tore the bread apart with her hands and teeth and devoured everything he'd given her in a matter of minutes. She licked her dry, cracked lips quickly, and looked at Alistair evaluatingly.

_'Try to offer her your canteen.'_ Echo suggested. _'See if she'll come up to you.'_

Alistair did as he was bade, first showing the canteen, and taking a drink to show its contents were safe. Then he held it out to her quietly.

For a few moments, neither of them was sure she was going to move.

Then slowly, hesitantly, she crawled up on scrawny limbs to him, and held out her hands. Alistair placed the canteen into them, and she took long and heaving gulps.

"My name is Alistair." He said slowly and awkwardly. "What's your name?"

The girl shivered quietly under his gaze, but then her eyes darted up to meet his in curiosity.

"Milah." She said quietly.

"Still hungry?" Alistair asked, and gestured to his companions. Leliana quickly pushed her food into his waiting hands, and he offered it to Milah. She took it hesitantly, and held it to her chest like a lifeline.

"Can I share it with someone else?" she asked, eyes darting around to evaluate her options for possible escape.

"Of course." Alistair said firmly. "It's yours now, and you can do whatever you want with it."

She grinned, then, a pretty smile even with the childish missing teeth.

"May I ask you a few questions before you do, Milah?" Alistair got down onto his knees, and looked her in the eyes.

She seemed to think about it for a moment, and then nodded.

"Do you know what's happening here in the Alienage now?" Alistair pried gently.

She worried her cracked and bleeding lips with her teeth, and nodded again.

"People are gettin' sick." She offered. "Mages are here to help 'em, but nobody they take comes back."

"Did they take someone you know?" Alistair's eyes softened, and even Morrigan had the good grace to keep her mouth shut.

She nodded, slower this time, and her eyes dulled a bit.

"Where are the healers?" Alistair changed the subject delicately, and she looked up to meet his eyes again.

She pointed over to a darker part of the alienage silently.

"Where are your parents?" Alistair asked, even though he didn't particularly want the answer.

She shook her head vehemently, and both their hearts sank. They'd known the answer even before he'd asked, of course, but knowing and knowing were two entirely different things.

"Isn't someone taking care of you, like in an orphanage?" Alistair almost whispered.

She shook her head again, face contorted with hate. "They burned it." She whispered. "The shems came and killed everyone they could get their hands on."

"When." Alistair could scarcely rein in his anger, and clenched his fists.

She looked at her fingers, and counted laboriously.

"Was it before or after the King died?" Alistair asked quietly, with deadly intent.

The girl seemed to know it wasn't directed at her, and squinted at him.

"Before." She said finally. "After the rich shem came and took the ladies away."

"Took the ladies away?" Leliana muttered, a grim kind of understanding crossing her features.

Milah nodded, and clutched her food package tighter to her chest. "They were having a wedding, and it was really pretty. Everyone was dressed up, when he came."

"And then what?" Alistair struggled to maintain a veneer of calm.

"He took the ladies. Most of them didn't come back, except Shianni." The girl worried her bottom lip again. The bile started to rise in Alistair's throat, but he choked it back down. "The boys went to rescue them, but they didn't come back, either. Except Soris did, he came back two days ago. He looks awful."

_'The day we freed some beaten and starving elf boy from the Arl of Denerim's estate.'_ Alistair connected the last of the dots. _'If the Blight hadn't killed him, I would have. But then, it couldn't have been him, it must have been… Oh, Maker.'_

_'What?'_ Asked Echo, oblivious to the connection he was making.

_'He has a son.'_ Alistair said grimly. _'I found him in the same dungeons, and released him. I didn't know, I thought that Arl Howe had just locked him up to keep the estate.'_

_'I doubt Arl Howe locked him up for his actual crimes.'_ Echo said, increasingly disgusted with the world Alistair lived in. _'He probably did just want the arling.'_

_'And I let that monster out.'_ Moaned Alistair. 'I should have run him through and left him to rot.'

_'This is better.'_ Echo pointed out. _'You can put him on trial, too. Him dying suspiciously in a cell somewhere doesn't help the elves long term. If you show that you won't put up with mistreatment of your people, that will get you much farther with them.'_

_'And Anora just left it all like this?'_ Alistair sounded revolted. _'I don't care what she says, she isn't a capable Queen.'_

_'Then you really need to win that Landsmeet, then, don't you?'_ Echo inserted. _'We need to look into those elves disappearing. It's odd that the Circle didn't mention they had mages here in Denerim, isn't it?'_

Alistair's eyes went wide, and he reached into his pockets again.

_'Ah, what does one give to children? Pointy things? Very small rocks?'_

Echo was somewhere between wanting to thump her head into a wall, and giving Alistair a hug.

_'Your future spawn will be so lucky to have you.' _She deadpanned. _'I would try money for this one. She needs food, shelter, and clothes more than anything else. Not that I'd fault you for getting her a dolly after those are taken care of.'_

He came out with a sheathed dagger and a few silvers, and held the dagger out to Milah, handle first. She looked confused.

"Ah, Alistair?" Leliana interjected. "The child has no idea how to use or conceal that weapon. She's as like to hurt herself as anyone else. And the guards won't take kindly to her being armed."

Alistair slumped his shoulders further. "You're right." He said, as he slid the dagger back into his pocket, and came out with more coins.

"Take these," he dropped the silvers into her filthy outstretched hand, "and use them to buy yourself and your friends food."

"Milah." And she looked up from examining her gifts to meet his gaze again. "I need you to keep your friends safe. Don't go to those healers for now, and I'll be back later with a nice lady who can help you. Can I meet you here later tonight?"

Milah nodded, and set her jaw in determination. It was a look far too old for her childish features, and it made Alistair's stomach roil in nausea.

"I'll bring you more food, all right?" She nodded again, and turned to scamper off, disappearing behind the rotting wooden buildings.

Alistair stood, and turned back to survey his companions. Morrigan was sneering at no one in particular, but Zevran, Leliana, and Sten stared back at him with faces of grim determination.

"Let's go, we have some elves to find." Alistair turned brusquely, and stalked off in the direction Milah had indicated earlier.

* * *

The first signs of trouble they encountered was actually the noise.

_'Another riot?'_ Echo wondered aloud.

_'Probably. And who could blame them?'_ Alistair countered balefully._ 'I've half a mind to put this city to the torch myself and start all over again.'_

_'You're doing a good job.'_ Echo reassured awkwardly. _'Taking care of that girl was the right thing to do. You'll be a better ruler than Anora or Cailan ever were.'_

_'We'll see.'_ Alistair muttered, as they turned round a last corner and were greeted by the sight of around fifty elves, clamoring around one building.

Some were screaming and waving their fists, while others tried to lift their ill family members and friends to push them forward towards the entrance.

The smell was the worst part, though. The instant they could see the doorway in question, Alistair's nose was bombarded with the combined stench of waste, blood, and the unmistakable smell of rotting meat.

_'And the aftertaste!'_ Echo wanted to paw desperately at Alistair's taste buds to make it go away. She might have to burn them after this entirely.

_'I thought that keeping everything clean was basic in a plague situation?'_ Echo queried, noting the piles of filth that littered the streets. _'Especially people.'_

_'Well, not everyone has access to clean water just for bathing.' _Alistair said, as he side stepped a particularly suspect puddle. _'That said, it was taught in the Chantry that way.'_

_'But a healer would know better than to leave the wounds fester.'_ Echo complained. _'There's something really, really wrong here.'_

"Those do not look like any Chantry robes I am familiar with," Zevran drawled, "Of course, I usually view them while they are occupying the floor, but all the same."

"Tevinter mages, then." Leliana said, with no small amount of venom. "We should pay them a visit."

Alistair nodded seriously. "Let's get over there, then."

"Stop, shemlen!" a female voice rang out somewhere nearby.

Alistair stopped in his tracks and turned to locate the source of the words, and quickly found a red-headed elf barreling her way through the crowd.

"What are you doing here, shem?" She asked challengingly.

Alistair made a show of keeping his hands away from his weapons, and her clever eyes followed his every moment with suspicion.

"We are trying to find out what is happening here in the Alienage." Alistair stated, trying to avoid antagonizing the combative woman. "Someone told us that people are going missing."

Her eyes went slightly softer for a millisecond, before she recovered and regarded the group warily. "Whoever told you that is correct." She stated, sounding absolutely exhausted. "These healers are supposed to be curing the plague, but no one they take in comes back. And most of the people they took weren't even sick!"

She looked desolate, and stared at the ground. "I've been trying to get everyone to stop going to them, but they won't listen."

"Where are they taking the elves that disappear?" Zevran asked, showing an unusual amount of interest in their objective.

The woman pointed to the building that the other elves were congregated next to. "They all go in there, and don't come out. Not that I've seen, anyway. They even took our Hahren, Valendrian. He wasn't sick, either. And now everything is falling apart."

Zevran and Leliana looked at the building in question critically.

"Are there any other doors?" Leliana asked delicately. "They could be taking them out through a back alley."

It did seem like the obvious answer to the mystery.

The woman's eyes widened dramatically, and Echo choked back a laugh.

The elf woman seemed serious, though, when she exclaimed, "Yes, there is a back door, it leads to an alley that connects to some apartments!"

"Then that's where we need to go in." Leliana said, pleased to have a plan of action.

The woman seemed to come to the conclusion that they were not, in fact, here to abduct or accost any of the elves from the Alienage, and bowed her head curtly. "Thank you, shemlen. My name is Shianni. If you need anything, come find me." Then she turned abruptly on her heel and sped away, apparently uncomfortable with further contact.

_'Poor woman.'_ Echo muttered sympathetically. _'Shianni was the person that the girl talked about, right?'_

_'Yeah.'_ Alistair said sadly. _'That's her.'_

_'Cheer up, buddy.'_ Echo cajoled, _'You probably get to smite some Tevinters. Then you'll save the elves they've nefariously locked away.'_

_'I do like smiting things.'_ Alistair admitted bashfully, and turned into the alley.

There was an elf guarding the back door by himself, who narrowed his eyes dangerously at them as they approached, and made to draw his bow.

"Stop." Alistair commanded, and was endlessly amused to see the man obey.

"What is your business here?" The elf demanded defensively.

"First of all, you should be ashamed for being implicit in harming your fellow elves. Second of all, if I hand you a gold piece, I expect you to leave. I do not want to see you here again." Said Alistair, trying to avoid a needless fight.

He held out the sovereign, which the elf snapped up happily and examined for authenticity.

Once satisfied, he smiled up at Alistair. "I never saw you, and you never saw me."

"Agreed." Sighed Alistair. "Now get out of my way."

The elf palmed the coin and pressed a key into Alistair's open hand, before striding away into the dark alleyways.

"This is why you pay your guards well." Zevran quipped, amused.

"No kidding." Alistair muttered, as he turned the key in the lock and opened the door to an odd sight.

There were ten people in the room, some obviously mages, and one solitary elf in the corner locked in a cage.

"Slavers in the middle of a city?" Sten grumbled as he unsheathed his great sword, and Alistair almost jumped. It was strangely easy to forget the colossal Qunari was there sometimes, he was generally so reserved. "Let us finish them."

Echo couldn't agree more. _'We should have brought Shale.' She _posited. _'She would have liked to smash slavers.'_

_'You and Shale get along entirely too well.'_ Alistair grunted, levelling the entire room with a Holy Smite. Leliana stayed back with Morrigan, but Zevran, Alistair, and Sten leapt on the defenseless slaver mages like flies on rotten meat.

It was over in a matter of seconds, and Alistair carefully wiped his blade on an ugly Tevinter mage robe before sheathing it and walking over to the caged elf.

The boy was shaking pitifully, mostly likely from both fright and hunger.

"Are you all right?" Alistair asked somewhat gruffly, as Zevran quickly picked the lock.

The boy nodded, and once the door was open, he crept out like a cautious wounded animal. "Thank you, sers." He gasped as he bowed. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, but first: where are they taking the other elves? I know you aren't the only one they took." Alistair uncomfortably.

"Out the alleyway, I think they went into the apartments." The boy wrung his hands nervously, and Alistair grabbed a pouch of coins from the slavers' desk.

"Here." He tossed it, and the boy fumbled to catch it. "Go back home, all right?"

The boy shook his head frantically, and fled out the door as if his feet were on fire.

Zevran went over to the desk, and rifled through the papers. After a quiet moment, he came back with an uncharacteristic sneer on his face.

"What did you find?" Leliana asked hesitantly.

Zevran's upper lip curled farther.

"We won't be getting all of them back." Was all he said, as he stalked out the doorway.

Everyone filed out quietly behind him, and followed him into the apartment buildings previously indicated.

"So, we kill every slaver in there?" Morrigan asked. "'Tis not the most practical thing, to fight a large group of Magisters."

Alistair fixed her with a challenging glare.

"We won't leave a single slaver standing, Morrigan."

Somehow, she seemed pleased. "Very well, then." She drew her staff from her back, and tapped it on her shoulder with a knowing smile. "Following your lead, then."

Alistair just turned away, and shouldered the door open.

The apartment building was disturbingly quiet, and they found no one in the first few rooms. The apartments did show signs of struggle –small bloodstains, shattered dishes, and the occasional torn piece of clothing.

No one said anything, but Zevran's eyes in particular seemed to linger sadly on deserted children's toys, or discarded broken necklaces on the floor.

They finally found someone hiding behind a pile of refuse in the hallway, and the poor elven man was almost too scared to talk.

"You're not one of them." He stammered, holding his hands up in front of his chest defensively. "Are you going to hurt me?"

"No." Sighed Alistair wearily. "Where are they taking the other elves?"

The man pointed down the darkened hallway. "That way, to the warehouse. That's where they keep them until they're sold. I've only avoided being sold by hiding here."

"Go out the way behind the clinic." Leliana directed kindly, "It should still be clear, if you avoid the crowd in the front."

The man nodded gratefully and ran off in the direction they'd come from.

"This isn't really getting any easier." Alistair said nauseously. "Everything we find is worse than the last."

Sten grunted in assent, and hefted his great sword over his shoulder.

"We should get moving, to save those that are left."

Alistair startled a bit. "Of course, yes. You're right." With that, he plowed down the desolate hallway, and through the doorway that led closer to the warehouse.

"Oy! Who are you?" A Tevinter guard shouted, and Alistair just looked back at Morrigan with a raised eyebrow.

"This looks like a job for your gentle touch," he quipped.

She smirked, and hexed them into a waking horror. The guards fell down, faces contorting in silent screams. Zevran took the moment to slip past Alistair and cleanly slit both of their throats, before gently setting them back on the ground, so as to not make any extra noise.

_'So, what's behind door number one?'_ Echo asked sardonically. _'If it's a bunch of mages, you owe me something shiny.'_

It temporarily shook Alistair out of his morose mood, which was her intention. _'You didn't even give me a chance to bet, I wouldn't take that bet in a million years.'_ Alistair whined.

_'Too bad.'_ She projected her faux smugness at him, and he pushed it back jokingly.

"All right, time to get this over with." Alistair announced, and rammed through the door with his shoulder.

Echo had been right (of course) and the room was indeed occupied by mages. They had all been gathered around a man in fancier clothing, evidently receiving orders, when Alistair had barged into the room.

_'Smite them?'_ Asked Echo hopefully. It never got old seeing the look of utter confusion on a mage's face before they flopped to the ground like a limp fish.

_'Smite them.' _Alistair agreed warmly, and shot out a very powerful Holy Smite that shot the mage in charge into the nearest wall. His head hit the brick with a sickening cracking sound, and his head shot forward in such a way that suggested his neck had broken.

_'Hey, you're really good at this.'_ Echo chirped. _'Just think of what you and I could do in Tevinter. We could go around, smacking Magisters, freeing the slaves…'_

_'I thought I was supposed to be King of someplace?'_ Alistair said dryly, before drawing his sword. He swung it horizontally, and sliced another mage's staff into two pieces.

_'Well, I don't have any other Templar friends.'_ Echo said hotly, before correcting herself. _'Or, come to think of it, any friends at all, really… Are you entirely sure Kings don't get a few months of paid vacations every now and then?'_

_'I don't even know what a vacation is, so no.'_ Alistair barely dodged a nasty lightning bolt coming his way, and bashed the offending mage in the face with his shield. When the shield came back, the mage's face was gushing blood from the nose. The hard, coppery smell tickled at Alistair's nostrils, and Echo was disturbed to find that the smell was becoming incredibly normal to her.

Alistair beheaded the dazed mage expertly, and turned to his next opponent. This one was just a regular foot soldier, and not very interesting. The grunt swung his sword like an unwieldy baseball bat, but Alistair easily brushed the clumsy swing aside.

_'What a hack.'_ Echo scoffed. _'I'm surprised he even knew to try to stick you with the pointy end.'_

Alistair chuckled involuntarily, disturbing the poor man, before mercilessly ramming his sword through the man's chainmail. The man collapsed on it with a throaty gurgling sound and died. Alistair pushed the body away using his leg, and extracted his sword. When he looked up around the room, he saw that the fight was entirely over.

_'To be fair, they were mostly mages and you smote the piss out of them.'_ Echo countered. _'It's not surprising that it didn't take long to get rid of all of them, actually.'_

Alistair shrugged quietly, and went about looting the bodies while Zevran and Leliana picked the locks on the cages.

"Kadan, I have found something." Sten called, from where he was patting down the corpse of the mage in charge.

Alistair shuffled over, and Sten forced a letter with a broken seal into his hands.

"This may be of use to you, Warden. A letter from Loghain to the slavers."

Alistair's brain suddenly kicked into overdrive, and he opened the letter quickly. He scanned over it for a moment, and then froze.

"He condoned this whole thing. The Regent… he let these monsters into Denerim." Alistair said tonelessly, in response to the inquisitive stares of his companions.

Zevran looked absolutely murderous, as did Leliana.

"The basra has no sense, and even less honor." Sten said gravely.

Neither Alistair nor Echo was familiar with the word, but were pretty sure it was bad.

"I still think we should go to him directly and kill him." Morrigan sniffed. "He is obviously as incapable as he is cowardly."

"Wouldn't do any good to get rid of him like that." Alistair sighed. "Can't just kill off a beloved general like that. We'd have to fight all the people who didn't know what he had done. I do have a plan, though, and I do intend to make him suffer. But that won't help these people now. We need to get rid of the last of the slavers, and take this information to the Landsmeet. It should discredit both Loghain and Anora enough to secure our votes."

"And then you hire me to kill him in the most painful of ways, yes?" Zevran asked with a dark sort of humor.

Alistair choked out a laugh. "…No, Zevran. I have something much worse planned for him."

"What could be worse than having to deal with the elf?" Morrigan asked, but the bait didn't work and Alistair just smiled grimly.

"I'm going to conscript him."

Everyone looked skeptical except Morrigan. She just seemed endlessly amused, and gave him a somewhat grudging nod of respect.

_'She knows entirely too much about your awful little club.'_ Echo observed.

"In any case," Alistair cleared his throat loudly, "we should get these people back to their homes, and take care of the last of the mages outside."

An older male then parted from the gathering of freed elves cowering in the corner, and walked towards them with a stride that spoke of authority.

"I am Valendrian." He bowed lightly, and addressed Alistair directly. "I thank you on behalf of my people for freeing us. Is there anything we can do to repay you?"

"Are you the Hahren?" Alistair asked, feeling exhausted.

Valendrian startled.

"Shianni mentioned that their Hahren, Valendrian, had been taken. Unless that's a common name, I figured it was you." Alistair clarified awkwardly.

"Ah, then yes." Valendrian half-smiled. "I am the Hahren of this Alienage. And may I have your name?"

"I am Alistair, of the Grey Wardens." Alistair said tiredly, ignoring the sting that accompanied the lie.

Valendrian suddenly looked much less wary. "I thank you, Alistair. I knew a Warden for many years, and found him a loyal and worthy friend."

Alistair almost wanted to ask, but he wouldn't want the answer. "Thank you, Hahren Valendrian. Is everyone all right?"

Valendrian's face grew taut. "Physically, most. But they are understandably ill at ease. It will take much time for them to recover. The Tevinters were not pleasant to their captives."

He looked down at the corpse of a Tevinter mage and forced back a sneer. "At least they will no longer be an issue. What concerns me is that this was not just done, but allowed."

"We are challenging Queen Anora and Teryn Loghain at the Landsmeet." Alistair reassured him. "The Landsmeet will take place within a day or so, and we will depose him."

"I would ask what claim you have to the throne that the Queen does not, but I find human politics wearying and ultimately unchanging." Valendrian said wearily. "If you have need of us, we will be here. Come speak to me in my home if you have need of our aid. If you will excuse me, I feel it would be best if I took my people home. We all need rest."

Alistair nodded. "You should follow us out. There are still a few Tevinters outside the front of the clinic we will need to take care of."

Valendrian acknowledged with a slow nod. "I will go tell them that we are leaving." He turned and departed, moving stiffly from being trapped in a small cage for days.

Alistair turned towards the door and waved on his companions, who fell in behind him silently and efficiently.

"Zevran." Alistair said quietly, and Zevran quietly snuck up to his side. "I'll need you to kill the mage outside without being seen. We can't chance them hurting any more civilians."

Zevran grinned and nodded. "This thing I would be glad to do for you, Warden. Rest assured that he will not see his death until it is upon him."

"Good."

Zevran disappeared into the shadows ahead of them, but Alistair kept his pace steady.

"Leliana, Morrigan, I want you to hit any archers of theirs quickly. There are going to be innocents out there, and we need to be careful we don't harm them. Sten and I will guard the captives that are exiting the building. The Tevinters will likely target them to make sure they can't talk."

_'You're getting really good at this.'_ Echo mentioned proudly.

_'It never feels like it.'_ Alistair said glumly. _'Feels more like I'm just constantly trying to fight back a raging storm with bare hands. I never thought anything would be like this.'_

_'No one ever does.'_ She pointed out. _'But you aren't ignoring it, when it would have been easier. Or you could have taken money from the slavers, like Loghain. It was harder to fight them, or think of fighting them, but you did it anyway. That's what makes you good at it.'_

_'Also, you'll look fabulous in golden armor, which is an achievement in itself.'_

He almost chuckled out loud, but managed to disguise it as a cough, lest everyone in the party think he was insane.

_'Oh, please. They know I talk to you, yes?'_ Echo asked rhetorically.

_'Well, yes. But I didn't happen to mention that you like making terrible jokes. It seemed rather undignified. Justice seems to think you're some sort of saint for putting up with us, and Wynne's spirit can't talk.'_

_'No, it's just a baby, though.'_ She dismissed. _'As far as spirits go, anyway. Poor little thing doesn't have the strength to do that yet. I'm glad it found Wynne, though. They're very compatible. And spirits of Justice are always that boring, believe me. Total party-poopers. Always going on about every injustice they can find, and being all judgey.'_

_'Tell me how you really feel.'_ Alistair deadpanned.

_'Spirits of Compassion are nice enough, but pretty dull to hang out with. Spirits of Valor shout entirely too much for my taste, but the spirits of Faith are interesting to talk to, if you're into theological debate. Spirits of honor are a bit one-dimensional, but likable enough. I like the spirits of Hope, but they're rather few and far between. They have interesting hobbies.'_

That sparked Alistair's interest. _'Hobbies like what?'_

Echo considered how to phrase it best. _'They like to hang out in the worst places. Places that seem dark and cold and demon-tainted.'_

_'Why would they want to do that?'_ Alistair asked, confused.

_'Because they like to plant a seed of hope that can grow there. They're inspired by what people do when they're in an untenable situation. I'd bet you there are a few that reside in this area of the Fade, actually. Probably working through someone like Shianni, if I had to guess. They like to pick people with the power to change things.'_

Alistair rolled that over in his mind for a few moments._ 'So is that what you are?'_

Echo felt startled._ 'I don't know, I've never described myself as such. Then again, that's kind of part of the change. Spirits don't usually seem to know what they are until someone else figures it out. We get distilled down to our very core after some time in the Fade, and it takes time to peel back all those layers.'_

_'I think I prefer calling you a Spirit of Truthiness, though I think Hope wouldn't be a stretch for you.'_ Alistair thought quietly.

_'I think I prefer Truthiness, too. That way I'm extra-special, the only one of my kind. Like a limited-edition collectable.'_

_'I don't even want to know what you're talking about.'_ Alistair deadpanned.

Leliana shifted past them with a smile, before disappearing into the shadows like Zevran, and Morrigan changed into a raven. They slipped out the exit quietly, and Alistair and Sten waited a few minutes before opening the door.

As they stepped out into the sunlight, many things happened very quickly.

The Tevinter mage at the door keeled over suddenly, and the four archer guards gurgled and fell backwards, with an arrow or ice spike stuck through their throats. Only two guards with swords were left, and their frantic gazes quickly fell onto Sten and Alistair exiting the warehouse.

"Get them!" One of them roared furiously.

The guards both rushed to meet them, but one was viciously impaled from behind by Zevran, who appeared out of nowhere. The other's head jerked forward and then back as an arrowhead cruelly struck him through his adam's apple. He toppled to the ground at Alistair's feet, face permanently frozen in horrified confusion.

"Ew." Alistair moaned, gently kicking the man's head off his foot. It lolled lazily to the side, and he looked up to see the faces of the elves staring back at him in fear.

He turned back and opened the door, letting Valendrian and the other captured elves shuffle out.

"I think it's time that we leave." Alistair said quietly to Valendrian. "I'll be by later with a healer."

Valendrian smiled and nodded. "I welcome your return. Thank you for all you have done for us."

Leliana and Zevran appeared behind him, though Morrigan was still nowhere to be seen.

_'Do you think she changed into a bird again?'_ Echo asked excitedly. _'If I could do that, I would all the time. I think flying would be wonderful.'_

_'I can ask her about it, if you want.'_ Alistair offered. _'You're a Fade Spirit, you could probably use it in the Fade, if nothing else.'_

_'I would like that very much.'_ Echo admitted shyly. _'There are a few dreamers who know how to do these things, but there aren't many of them. I've never asked one to show me. Things like that don't seem as interesting in the Fade. Now, I can see more use.' _

_'I'll ask tonight.'_ Alistair promised. _'Or whenever she shows up next. You know Morrigan, she's a bit… flighty.'_

_'That was terrible.'_ She snorted, as Alistair walked confidently out of the alienage gates and headed towards the Gnawed Noble.

He fought through a throng of shoppers at the market, but determinedly made his way to the tavern's door. He threw it open in relief and the sudden transition from light to dark rendered him temporarily blind. He quickly adjusted while Echo strained furiously. He took a seat at a table, while Sten, Leliana, and Zevran moved to the seats around him.

"Who do we need to talk to in here?" Leliana asked quietly, surveying the many nobles occupying seats.

"Bann Alfstanna, Bann Sighard, Arl Bryland, and Arl Wulff." Alistair ticked off his fingers. "The Arls have both had their territories ravaged by the Blight, and are more likely to heed our call. The Banns both have relatives that we rescued from Arl Howe. However, I should be able to do those things alone. You three can get a drink and watch for any trouble."

Leliana nodded happily, and rose her hand in the air to beckon to the waitress. After they'd all had a drink, Alistair rose heavily from his seat.

"Time to go schmooze with the rich people." He winked, and Zevran chortled into his beer.

He moved to Bann Sighard first, and stood at a respectful distance away from him before the friendly but depressed man beckoned him forward.

"My son described you," he said heavily. "He said you rescued him from Arl Howe's dungeons."

"I did." Alistair bowed his head, "How is your son faring?"

Sighard hung his head. "There were things done to my son that are beyond a healer's skill." He acknowledged darkly. "But without you, I would not have recovered him at all. I owe you much, Warden. Any boon I have the power to grant is yours."

"I only have one desire." Alistair stated purposefully. "I wish for you to support me in the Landsmeet against Loghain."

Sighard laughed hoarsely. "So my son will have been saved by the King of Ferelden. I could think of nothing better, save that my son was able to walk again."

Alistair's hand instinctively extended out to comfort the Bann, but he drew it back before he made contact. Sighard noticed, however, and smiled faintly.

"You're more like your father than you know." He said quietly, examining Alistair's face. "He was a good man, and an excellent King. I'm sure you'll do well."

Suddenly, Echo noticed Alistair's face getting hot. 'What's happening to your face?' She asked, worried.

Alistair coughed awkwardly. "Thank you, Bann Sighard, for your kind words and your support. I do have one more thing to discuss with you, however."

"Would you like to sit down?" Sighard asked, amused.

Alistair sat, and pulled out the slaver's documents from his pouch.

"I was in the Alienage today, to investigate the reports of the plague. What I found, however, was decidedly more sinister."

Sighard's interested was piqued. "And the papers?"

Alistair pushed them gently across the table to Sighard, who picked them up and read them ravenously. "I found these in the possession of a Tevinter slaver."

Sighard finished reading, and shoved them back across the table with disgust. "That is certainly the seal of the Teryn of Guerrin. Although I already had my reservations about his known associations with Arl Howe, I would have never suspected him of a crime of this magnitude."

Alistair shared a grim kind of smile with the Bann. "I did not, either. The slavers had used the outbreak of the plague to disguise their operation. They posed as healers, and the elves came to them in droves."

Sighard put his head in his hands. "How many were sold?"

"Somewhere around fifty elves have already been sent on ship to Tevinter, according to the slavers' records I found in their clinic." Alistair shared quietly. "We rescued some thirty more from their warehouse in the Alienage."

"Maker." Sighard sighed. "If you hadn't had my support yet, you would have it now. What is to be done about Loghain?"

"I plan on conscripting him into the Wardens if I win the Landsmeet." Alistair stated. "He is a gifted soldier and general, and could help much in the fight against the darkspawn. Anora, however, is another matter."

"That she is." Bann Sighard agreed. "What would you have done with Queen Anora?"

"That is dependent on her actions." Alistair leaned forward onto the table, and fixed Sighard with a stare. "I do not know whether she was complicit in this atrocity, or just woefully unaware."

"Either is unacceptable." Sighard said irritably.

"Exactly." Alistair agreed. "However, I have no intention of having the Queen executed unless I find that she expressly committed treason. If she can be proven a capable and caring influence, I would restore her to the Teyrnir of Gwaren."

"A fair plan, I suppose." Sighard rubbed his temples. "Have you shown these documents to anyone else?"

"I will, yes." Alistair advised. "A few other nobles beyond reproach."

Sighard nodded. "That would help your cause. There are a few nobles at the Landsmeet that would be able to testify to the veracity of these papers. Arl Wulff or Arl Bryland come to mind, particularly. Arl Eamon's testimony will not hurt, of course, but as he put your name forward as a candidate…"

"His testimony alone would be suspect at best, yes." Alistair agreed.

Sighard straightened and smiled wryly at Alistair. "I am glad to know that you are proving adept at navigating the politics of Ferelden."

"You thought I was not behind my own ascension." Alistair clarified.

Sighard let out a huff of laughter. "There have been suspicions." He stated.

Alistair lifted his eyebrows in irritation. "Unsurprising, I'm sure."

Sighard shrugged. "Where powerful men are involved, situations like that do arise." He drained the last of his beer, and looked at Alistair evaluatingly. "Care to have a drink?"

Alistair sighed. "I would, but your son is not the only noble I found in those dungeons. I need to speak with a few more people yet tonight. If, after I'm done, the offer is still open, I would be happy to join you for a drink."

Sighard nodded. "I will always welcome your company, Warden Alistair."

Alistair struggled not to grin, and turned away. He spotted Bann Alfstanna in the corner at a table, talking to a man he recognized from description as Arl Bryland.

_'Two birds, one stone, huh?'_ Echo commented.

Alistair strode across the tavern, and waited for either party to recognize him. Bryland noticed him first, and waved him over with a smile.

"Is there something we can help you with, Alistair? Eamon had told us all about you, but I wasn't expecting to see you until the Landsmeet." He said jovially. "Come to speak with us about our support, I suppose?"

"Yes, and no." Alistair admitted. "Primarily, I came to return this to you, Bann Alfstanna." He held out the ring in his palm, and her eyes went wide with fear as she snatched it from his hand.

"Where did you get this?" She demanded angrily. "This belongs to my brother, and he's been missing for months! Did you kill him?"

Alistair threw his hands up in a submissive gesture. "No, Bann Alfstanna. Your brother is very much alive. Have you spoken with Bann Sighard about his missing son? I found them both in the Arl of Denerim's estate, under Arl Howe's care. Your brother is in the throes of lyrium withdrawal and refused to leave his cell, but asked that I bring this ring to you."

Alfstanna stood, and examined him for any sign of deceit.

"If this is true, I owe you more than I can say." She said finally, worrying the ring between her slender fingers.

"I imagine you will want to go to him now, but I do have some documents I would like to discuss with you at a later date. If you are amenable to that, of course."

Alfstanna nodded, and slipped the ring onto her thumb. "I will go to him now and confirm your words. If I find them true, I would owe you nothing less than my support in the Landsmeet. I suppose you will be discussing these same documents with Arl Bryland here?"

Alistair nodded in affirmation, and she glanced over to the Arl. "I will speak with him afterwards, and come to you later when I can."

She dropped down coins for her drinks on the table, and strode out of the tavern with as much speed as possible.

"And then there was one." Arl Bryland said, eyebrow raised. Whether it was in amusement or interest, neither Alistair nor Echo could tell.

"So it would seem, Arl Bryland." Alistair nodded respectfully. "Fortunately, I found no family members of yours within the deceased Arl Howe's estate."

"And glad to hear it." Bryland said, relieved. "Of course, I think everyone would know immediately if Habren went missing. She spends all her days in the market, and shrieks horribly when upset. I don't suppose you'll be looking for a bride, then?"

He started chuckling at the panicked look on Alistair's face. "Do not worry, I have no intention of making you pay for my loyalty with a betrothal. Though if you find Habren's charms appealing, I would count myself happy on many counts. And so would my vault, I suspect."

When Alistair stayed very, very still and tried not to give offense, the older man seemed to let the topic drop.

"Though with a Blight, the state of my treasury is the least of our worries." Bryland sighed, leaning back into his seat.

"That is true." Alistair acknowledged, and Bryland beckoned him to take the seat opposite. Alistair slid into the booth as gracefully as he could, and sat stiffly at the table. "Your arling includes Lothering, does it not?"

"Includes the scorched bit of earth and bones that used to be known as Lothering, yes." The Arl's face fell. "It was horrible, what happened there. But Teryn Loghain demanded the last of my men, and Lothering was left almost undefended. I am unsure how many of my people yet live."

"I know they were evacuating when we left." Alistair reassured him. "Many of the refugees were already leaving or had left when we arrived in Lothering. It fell a few weeks after, so it is possible that many of your people escaped the ravages of the Blight."

"For now." Bryland said dryly. "If we do not kill the foul beasts soon, they will overwhelm us all."

"Truer words were never spoken." Alistair agreed. "That is why I have agreed to put my name forth at the Landsmeet."

"No aspirations of nobility for a bastard son?" Bryland asked, not unkindly.

"None." Alistair answered truthfully. "My concerns are for the Blight and the people of Ferelden."

Alistair handed the papers out to Bryland solemnly. "It is for this reason that I would like for you to read these."

Bryland read much faster than Bann Sighard, apparently. Within seconds his brow furled and his hands shook with rage.

"Where did you find these?" He asked dangerously.

"In the Alienage today." Alistair related. "I was investigating the unrest there, when I discovered that Tevinters were posing as healers and enslaving Denerim citizens."

"And this is Teyrn Loghain's seal." Bryland spat venomously. "Enslaving his own people under his authority as Regent."

"So it appears." Alistair said uncomfortably, as Bryland handed the papers back to him.

"And the Queen?" Bryland asked.

_'If that isn't the million gold question.'_ Quipped Echo.

"I do not know if she was a complicit, or merely unaware." Alistair admitted. "I intend to find out."

Bryland nodded curtly. "Of course. I would expect no less." His mouth contorted in thought. "I will think on this, Warden. I look forward to seeing you at the Landsmeet."

Alistair stood, and bowed his head. "Thank you for your time, Arl Bryland. And I will have a situation to discuss with you after the Landsmeet, whether or not I win."

Bryland nodded and waved him away, and Alistair retreated to the table with Leliana, Zevran, and Sten. Zevran was leaning on Leliana's shoulder, apparently asleep. The quick wink and smirk he sent Alistair's way disproved this theory, however, and Alistair rolled his eyes.

"Any sign of Arl Wulff?" He asked, "By all accounts, he is a large, intimidating man. Like Sten, but with a beard."

"No." Leliana said regretfully, shaking her head. "No one by the description Eamon provided has entered the tavern since we arrived."

"We can always come back tomorrow." Alistair answered. "Eamon told Justice that almost his entire Arling has been destroyed by the Blight. We could make our case in the Landsmeet, if we must. He is known to be a noble man that cares for his people. He will know the Blight is the real threat, not Orlais. That's what we need."

Leliana nodded, considering his words. "Then we should return to the estate, yes?" She queried. "To prepare ourselves, rest, and retrieve Wynne."

Alistair dropped coins on the table, and nodded at Bann Sighard as they left. Sighard raised his glass in Alistair's direction and nodded approvingly.

"That went much better than I expected." Alistair breathed in relief as he pushed open the door and went out into the sunlight.

* * *

"Alistair."

Alistair turned his head to see Justice barreling down the hallway of the estate to meet him.

"Why, hello there Justice." He greeted amiably. "How can I help you?

Justice looked perplexed. "The Arl continues to pelt me with useless political tripe. I can see no justice in how the man operates. Must I continue to speak with him?"

Alistair choked down a laugh. "I suspect he thinks he's in collusion with Elissa, trying to put me on the throne as a puppet king. I'd prefer it if you continued to keep him entertained, but if it's miserable for you, you can stop."

Justice considered it for a moment. "How is distracting him justice?"

Alistair beckoned Justice into an abandoned room. "Distracting him isn't, but he will be on trial for crimes against his people after the Blight is over." Alistair intimated quietly.

Justice furrowed Elissa's brow, and Alistair suffocated the nausea that accompanied the familiar movement.

"His wife knew their child was a mage, and kept it from him, or so she says." Alistair explained. "She hired a blood mage to teach him, and Connor consorted with a demon to save his father. The demon killed all the soldiers in the castle, and summoned smaller demons to possess their corpses and kill the villagers."

Justice's face grew stormy, and his hand went for his sword. Alistair stopped him quickly.

"Justice, I will ensure that justice is done. What I need you to find out is whether Eamon knew any of this. If he did, he must be treated accordingly. He must be tried in a court of law, otherwise other nobles may follow their example."

"Ah." Justice said, a sad kind of understanding crossing his face. "So it is my role to determine whether or not he was aware that his son was a mage?"

Alistair nodded seriously. "Yes, that is what I need you to do. As you're in Elissa's body, I cannot have you wandering around Denerim. Too many people would recognize her, and I have heard whispers that her brother survived Ostagar and is here representing their house. It would be devastating for him to find you occupying her body."

Justice nodded. "I understand, Alistair. I will not leave the estate without reason or consulting with you."

"Fantastic." Alistair smiled. "I'm glad you're with us, Justice."

He left Justice to puzzle out how best to speak with Eamon, and went to find Wynne. Instead, he was confronted by Shale on his way through the hallways.

"Hello, it." Shale leered at him ominously. "How is it today?"

"I'm doing very well, thank you." Alistair said cheerily. "Echo told me I should have brought you today, there were slavers we needed squished.

Shale looked hopeful. "Did it leave any for me to find?"

Alistair shook his head regretfully. "No, I'm afraid we couldn't leave any of them alive. Tonight I will be going back, though. Would you like to attend? We might find some corrupt guards or demons or something. It would be odd if a bunch of Tevinter mages hadn't summoned some demons while they were there. Right now, I need to talk to Wynne to ask her to come as well."

"I will wait in the courtyard for it." Shale announced, and happily tromped out of Alistair's way.

Alistair watched her stomp gracelessly through the hallway, startling servants and Mabari, then turned back to his task.

He found Wynne in the library, quietly reading from a dense and dusty tome.

"Wynne, you like children, yes? And helping people?" Alistair wheedled awkwardly, not sure how to start this conversation.

Echo tried not to snigger, for fear of eroding Alistair's fragile confidence.

Wynne gave him a skeptical look. "This is usually the part where someone tries to tell me that for a scant ten sovereigns, I can save starving infants from brutal Qunari rule in Tevinter. What do you want, Alistair?"

"Not your money, though if you'd like to give me some I would certainly appreciate it." Alistair joked, before he shifted uncomfortably. "I actually need you to help me in the alienage. The people there are suffering from plague, starvation, and a multitude of other things. I thought your healing magic would be helpful, and you're much better with children than I am."

Wynne's face lost its joking manner. "I take it what you found was unpleasant, then."

Alistair seated himself heavily on the comfortable chair next to Wynne. "I found Tevinter slavers, women who had been abducted and abused by the Arl of Denerim's son, and blood-spattered orphans." He related wearily, rubbing at his temple. "Maker, I don't even know how to start handling this."

The older woman's jaw tensed. "Was the plague just an excuse to victimize the Alienage elves?"

"No," Alistair shook his head. "There was some sickness there. It just wasn't being treated at all. I think the Tevinter were letting anyone who got sick die and claiming that others were ill so they could take them away."

She took a long, steadying breath in a clear attempt to keep her temper. He leaned away slightly, unnerved by the proximity to a mage who looked ready to throw fireballs. Wynne stood suddenly and brushed off the front of her robes before reaching for her staff. Without another word, she briskly set off.

Alistair blinked in mild surprise.

"Well, are you coming?" Wynne called over her shoulder, already heading for the door.

Alistair gaped after her, his arm lax and his shield scraping the floor.

_'Aren't you?'_ Echo prodded gleefully.

"What is it with you women?" Alistair cried out loud, waving his free arm in a haphazard manner. "And why won't anyone ever wait for me?" He slumped his shoulders in defeat as he pushed his chair back to follow Wynne.

_'Don't forget about food.'_ Echo reminded him, as he shuffled through the hallways to the courtyard. _'You'll want to bring more food.'_

Alistair thanked her under his breath as he made another detour to the kitchens. He grabbed a large empty flour sack and began to fill it with breads, dried meats, cheese, and dried fruits.

Zevran, Wynne, and Shale were standing out in the courtyard talking when Alistair arrived. As per usual since Elissa's death, Peaches clung to Sten's side like a sheathed weapon.

It was no surprise that Peaches had chosen Sten as his new master, actually. They shared a rapport that was almost disturbing. Sometimes, Alistair had found them growling at each other.

"I'm ready to go." Leliana called from behind them, dressed in her lay-sister's robes. "I thought they might find this less intimidating."

Alistair had to agree. Earlier, they had probably scared the whole Alienage half to death, and their party as a whole didn't exactly look friendly. Having Zevran as a fellow elf and Leliana pose as a Chantry sister would hopefully smooth things over.

_'I'm not sure that's fair to do to those poor people,'_ Echo thought with amusement. _'That's false representation, even if Zevran wasn't an assassin. I think Leliana may be the most frightening of you lot.'_

Alistair actually snorted aloud. His cheeks immediately turned pink and he became very busy with gauging the time by looking at the sun. He had no idea how to tell time by the sun. Now would be a good time to figure it out, while Shale gave him a look that implied she thought he was broken. _'I'm sure I don't know what you mean,'_ he retorted a little incredulously. _'Leliana, really? She's all about flowers and pretty shoes and bringing the Maker's love to an uncaring world by stabbing people in the kidneys.'_

Echo sighed, and tried to avoid chiding him._ 'Still waters run deep, Alistair,' _she cautioned. _'That woman is a lot more than she seems. She's more of a crusader than a nun, and that doesn't take into account just how clever she is. I wouldn't underestimate her.'_

_'I don't mean to,'_ Alistair thought a bit guiltily.

_'Well, she means for you to,'_ Echo placated. _'So it's not entirely your fault for missing the signs.'_

Alistair pouted a bit, but sent Leliana an evaluating gaze that Echo didn't miss.

_'I wouldn't let on too much.'_ Echo giggled. _'Just be wary. If you pay attention, you'll see what I mean.'_

Alistair, however, didn't know how to be subtle.

Zevran coughed, and elbowed Alistair conspiratorially.

"What?" Alistair choked out, rubbing his armor in the affected area comfortingly.

Zevran just winked salaciously at Leliana's back, which Alistair only now realized he had been contemplatively squinting at. Alistair gaped and shook his head, barely stopping himself from babbling out an answer to the teasing Zevran hadn't said aloud. He would sound like the mad one, no matter that the elf had been the one with crazy ideas.

That was when Echo entirely lost it and laughed like she hadn't laughed in thousands of years.

_'What? Why are you laughing at me?'_ Alistair whined, which only made her laugh harder. Eventually he gave up and plodded after his companions as Echo still struggled to suffocate her giggles.

_'Don't you think Leliana's pretty?'_ She wheezed, and Alistair gamely ignored her and glared solidly ahead. '_Look at the booty!'_

The Alienage was slightly less depressing on their second visit of the day, if only because of the mass confusion that disrupted the earlier silence and solemnity. People were chattering and skittering away from their group as they carefully made their way through the crowded, filth-covered streets. Children and dull-eyed housewives eyed them with suspicion and ill-disguised fear from between rotting slats of siding.

Unsurprisingly, Valendrian had been warned of their appearance almost as soon as they entered the Alienage. He met them in the main square under the vhenadahl.

"I must admit, I did not truly expect for you to return." Valendrian said, still looking a bit haggard from his earlier ordeal. He did seem somewhat pleased to see them, even if he hadn't thought they would come back.

"Of course we returned. I told you I would bring a healer." Alistair gestured to Wynne, who was eyeing the surrounding critically. "This is senior enchanter Wynne. Wynne, this is Valendrian."

His manners were wasted, if the unimpressed expressions on both elders' faces were any indication. "A pleasure, but perhaps we should save the polite talk of weather for later. I will need a place to work in." Wynne sighed, rubbing her temples. "And a few assistants you would trust."

When given space to treat the ill, Wynne set to work immediately with a few volunteer assistants. Shianni insisted on being a volunteer to verify that Wynne was, in fact, a healer, and not another slaver. Wynne didn't even blink and directed her to cleaning surfaces to make a semi-sterile environment.

Alistair handed the food over to Valendrian for distribution, and provided some coins as well. "I didn't know what else to do, I'm sorry." Alistair shuffled his feet awkwardly, and thought about escaping. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

Valendrian smiled warmly. "I have been informed that a Templar has been wandering the Alienage for something in my absence. It has been another cause of great unrest for my people. If you would find him and assist him in his investigation so that he may leave, it would be most appreciated."

Alistair bounded off in the direction Valendrian indicated with a singular purpose, almost leaving Shale, Zevran, Peaches, and Sten behind. Fortunately, they'd seemed about as uncomfortable as Alistair had obviously been and were ready to follow.

_'That was awful.'_ Alistair groused. _'I felt useless, at least Leliana could help.'_

_'Wynne would have to be in pretty dire straits to rely on Shale or Sten for their bedside manner._' Echo posited with a snort. _'And I don't think you or Zevran would really be comfortable in that environment. You get twitchy, and you both seem to try to escape the instant someone comes at you full-tilt with feelings.'_

_'What about the war dog?'_ Alistair huffed defensively. He couldn't possibly be worse than the war dog.

_'He'd make a perfect nurse.'_ Echo said authoritatively. _'Just imagining him in one of those hilarious little hats makes me feel better already. Plus, dog saliva is supposed to be very good at cleaning wounds.'_

_'Now I get the feeling that if you could, you'd have an entire clinic full of mabari in silly mage robes.'_ Alistair whined. _'There should be warnings about spirits like you.'_

_'Oh, I think there are.'_ Echo said breezily. _'Your Chantry is pretty stuffy. It probably goes something like 'Verily, thou shalt ne'er make words with spirits of awe-inspiring beauty and charm.'_

_'They'll accidentally destroy the world with magic-wielding Mabari in daisy chains, and bathe the world in fire and some sort of nice floral bath oil.'_ Alistair deadpanned.

_'At least it would look nice.'_ Echo sniffed, _'Aren't you supposed to be doing something? Helping old ladies cross the street, or maybe teaching a class to urchins on computational skills?'_

_'When you get upset, you talk about the strangest things.'_ Still, Alistair continued his search in silence.

They located the Templar in the darkest part of the Alienage, surrounded by blackened buildings.

_'There's a tear in the Fade here.'_ Echo said suddenly, so quiet Alistair almost didn't hear her.

_'What? Where?'_ He swiveled his head around in all directions, but still wasn't bombarded by rage demons.

_'Not sure.'_ Echo muttered, feeling confused and depressed. _'The whole Alienage felt wrong before, I told you that when we came here earlier. The Veil was already damaged here before the Tevinters came. I just assumed that it was just very thin, not torn. It's not uncommon for places of such misery.'_

Alistair recalled Shianni, the starving orphans, and plague. He swallowed the anger that tasted remarkably like bile.

_'So you know it's torn, but not where? It must be close, then, right?'_

Echo hummed in the affirmative, still searching for any signs of the tear. _'The Templar can probably sense it, too. You should ask him. He's been here longer than we have.'_

Emboldened by his new mission, Alistair stepped forward. The Templar's head turned quickly to greet him, blank eyes staring directly at Alistair.

"Oh, you're blind." Alistair choked out in panic. "I'm so sorry, they asked me to talk to a Templar, and I just thought that you must have been the one they were talking about."

"I am." The Templar agreed calmly. "My name is Ser Otto, and you are?"

"Alistair." He said awkwardly, not wanting to lie to a blind Templar. He wasn't really a Templar, or a Grey Warden anymore, and 'royal bastard' just didn't seem to fit, either. He glanced back to the rest of the group and realized that there was an addendum to that statement. "And a few friends. I'm told that there is something wrong in this area?"

The Templar either didn't notice the obvious evasion, or didn't care.

"There is a disturbance in the Fade here." He turned sightless eyes over the rotting carcasses of buildings. "I believe there may be demons at work. If you would assist me in finding the cause of the rift in the Fade, I would be able to leave the Alienage."

"Fair enough." Alistair readily agreed. "What do you need us to do?"

"Obviously, I cannot see." The Templar said dryly. "I would ask that you look for clues or any obvious signs of demonic influence."

Alistair began his search, and dodged between rotting fallen beams in the gutted remains of a home.

_'So, we could have done this entirely without him.'_ Echo grumbled uncharitably. _'So we'll just wander the area until a desire demon jumps out and tries to suffocate us with her cleavage, yes?'_

The last sentence proved to be enough to distract Alistair entirely, and he shot up suddenly in shock. He hit a low hanging beam, and landed on his rear on the burnt floor.

"Oww…" Alistair groaned as he rose heavily and settled on his knees. Wearily, he opened his eyes and noticed that the hand he'd braced himself up with was covered in flakes of dried blood.

"Hey, I found something." He grimaced, and wiped his hand on his chest plate. It didn't do much to get rid of the blood, but it made him feel marginally better.

"Well spotted, my friend." Zevran called from a few feet away. "You certainly have a talent for finding clues. Perhaps a career in the city guard is in your future?"

_'I'm starting to think that hitting Zevran is more of a public service than anything.'_ Echo commented idly with a tinge of amusement. _'The man is a menace.'_

_'He's almost as bad as the Blight.'_ Alistair groused, and was only more irritated when Echo snorted. _'Only he doesn't smell as bad as the darkspawn.'_

_'He actually smells pretty nice,'_ Echo allowed contemplatively. _'Which raises more questions, really. We go weeks without bathing water on the road. He should smell at least half as bad as you do.'_

"Did you find anything, Zevran?" Alistair asked instead of allowing himself to wonder about Zevran's comparative level of malodorousness. Or why everyone insisted on claiming that he stank. He washed his socks as often as anyone else did.

"Another orphan girl." Zevran stopped next to Alistair and held out a hand to pull him up. Alistair accepted and rose to his feet, then rubbed his hands together bashfully again. Zevran glanced at the flakes of blood on his palms and shrugged before rubbing them on his leather armor.

"I think that the orphanage may be the cause of our problem." Zevran announced. "The girl only managed a few words, but when I went by, I found mad dogs, some alive, some dead. The building smells of blood and sulfur." He paused pointedly, and nodded his head as he added, "Also despair."

_'And that's our demon.'_ Echo said decisively.

"Let's go tell Ser Otto, then."

* * *

The orphanage was even worse than Zevran's colorful description had indicated. It didn't just stink of blood and sulfur. The blood had been soaked into the wood, leaving it soggy cand queasily soft to the touch. The ash lay in a thick coating that swirled around their ankles when they walked in. The mabari corpses were far from fresh, swollen with rot and buzzing with flies. Even more horrifyingly, most seemed to have blood on their muzzles and the teeth visible through rotting cheeks.

The only one not too busy gagging and trying to breathe through a barrier of cloth was Shale, which wouldn't have been interesting but that Sten had kidnapped a thick scarf from somewhere to breathe through.

_'Makes me feel like a bit less of a whiner.'_ Alistair thought, trying not to gape at the knitted pink monstrosity covering the lower half of Sten's face.

_'He also looks really nice in orchid pink.'_ Echo agreed contemplatively. _'It helps bring out the warm tones in his complexion.'_

_'You're indescribably weird.' _Alistair complained, as he bashed in a battered door. It fell to the ground in splinters, revealing a room filled with children's beds. There were pitifully few toys scattered over the floor, most burnt or apparently trampled on. The sheets were falling from the beds to the floor, suggesting that the children had either fled (or been dragged, Echo thought weakly) from their beds in the night.

There wasn't just stains of dried blood in this room, though. There was a still-sticky puddle of it near the other door that everyone avoided as they passed.

_'When did this happen?'_ Echo whispered, considering the cowardly option of hiding in the Fade until this was over.

Alistair didn't know, obviously. If he'd known, she would have already. She felt stupid for even asking.

Alistair didn't answer. He did quietly run a hand through his hair, knowing that she found the feeling reassuring.

Echo was exceedingly glad she wasn't still running his body. She wasn't sure she had the stomach for this kind of thing, to be honest.

Most of the rooms were empty. There were a few rage demons that Shale grimly pummeled into pulpy puddles of lava, of course, but nothing on the scale of Blackmarsh.

_'That, of course, means that there's going to be a big nasty demon in the next room.'_ Alistair predicted pessimistically, as Ser Otto barreled through the doorway and directly into the path of a pride demon.

_'That's a baby pride demon, though.'_ Echo said helpfully. _'It shouldn't be that bad, just don't leave Ser Overly Excited over there alone. He doesn't seem to have entirely compensated for the loss of his vision in his fighting. Or maybe it's just a Templar things to smash the thing directly in front of you and ignore anything coming from any other direction, I don't know.' _

_'Truly, your grasp of combat is astonishing.'_ Alistair thought darkly, with no small amount of sarcasm. He obligingly went to Ser Otto's side, however, slicing an already-wounded rage demon in half. _'You going to close that tear in the Veil, then?'_

Echo wanted to joke with him, but Alistair was obviously in no mood for banter. So she searched for the exact location of the tear instead. It really wouldn't do to let the demon bring all his friends to the party, after all. After a few moments of searching, she realized that there were actually a few miniscule tears in the room, rather obviously marked.

_'I know why I was having a problem now.'_ She announced. '_There are about six tiny tears in this room, around the piles of bones.'_

_'Of course.'_ Alistair said tiredly, batting away a massive clawed hand. _'It makes sense that infanticide would be enough to rip the Veil.' _He angrily thrust his sword into the pride demon's eye, and it emerged out the back of its skull. The ungainly body flopped to the ground weightily.

_'I'll just pick one and we can start, all right?'_ He asked gruffly. She silently closed the tears one by one with Alistair's help. By the end, he was panting heavily from exhaustion, sweat trickling down his face and back.

She'd forgotten how gross being alive could be. Ick. Still, it was understandable. He'd had a very long day, all things considered.

_'But why so many tiny tears, instead of a big one?'_ Alistair rasped, pulling himself together and shuffling back to the group standing in the corner, apparently trying to stay out of their way earlier.

_'That takes time.'_ Echo educated._ 'Even some rather nasty things make relatively tiny tears in the Veil. It's meant to be resilient. So, in an awful but isolated event, the tear mends itself in time.'_

_'So, when you have a lot of nasty things in one place, stewing for Maker knows how long…'_ Alistair hinged.

_'And demons coming through the tears, making them bigger.'_ Echo added. _'That's when you get large tears. Kind of like a run in a stocking, really. Except stockings don't heal themselves. All right, that metaphor doesn't really work.'_

_'Why don't the spirits take care of this, then?'_ Alistair asked, as he surveyed his companions for any injuries. Ser Otto had gained a limp, and blood was leaking sluggishly out of the new cracks on his chestplate. Sten was nursing a rather serious gash in his chest, and was favoring his left side. Zevran looked distinctly like hell, though it was hard to tell how much of the blood spattered all over him was his own. He was sitting down on the floor, though, which didn't bode well. They would be fine, however, since Wynne wasn't very far away and they had enough poultices to hold everyone together.

_'Kind of varies from spirit to spirit.'_ She admitted bashfully. _'The Spirits of Justice monitor the demons, and there aren't even enough of them to do that properly. Spirits of Mercy are pretty weak, Spirits of Faith aren't exactly proactive…'_

_'And Spirits of Hope are trying to inspire mortals to fix their own problems?'_ Alistair grumbled.

_'Pretty much.'_ She wanted to hide under a rock just a little bit. _'Most spirits don't care what happens here, it's your world and not theirs. I have to admit, it does get hard to relate to mortals after spending all your time floating about, with no bills to pay or crime to deal with.'_

_'The Chantry did always say that the spirits turned their backs on us for being so sinful.'_ Alistair gave the command to move out of the room, but Ser Otto insisted on praying first.

_'Listen, nothing you do to this place is going to make it better.'_ Echo groused. _'Best to inter the remains respectfully at this point and burn the building to the ground so something better can be built. The Veil's already fixed, anyway-' _Then she sensed something else, as Ser Otto's droned out a particularly preachy passage apparently regarding baked goods.

_'Well, hell's bells.'_

A rage demon rose out of the ground and gutted the praying Templar. He choked in surprise, drooling blood before his face stilled in a rictus of pain. There wasn't even time to shout out before it was obvious Ser Otto was lost. Heavy Templar armor dragged Ser Otto's limbs down to nearly scrape the floor—limp and straining at the awkward metal joints. The monster released him slowly onto the ground in an ugly clatter of metal, wheezing as if savoring the experience. The demon slowly turned to the rest of the room and threw its arms back to taunt them.

'Don't.' She commanded harshly, as Alistair started to move forward to engage it. 'That's no pushover rage demon like you've dealt with before. This is a big one, old, angry, and powerful.'

Alistair was in a pretty foul mood already, unfortunately. 'And just what do you propose I do, then?' He growled, raising his sword and shield defensively anyway.

'You could engage it as a group.' She suggested, wary of Alistair's newfound temper.

'No!' Alistair barked back. 'They're all too injured.'

That was a fair point, she had to acknowledge. They all looked far too weary from fighting and blood loss to fight something like this. Only Shale didn't have any obvious damage, but golem health seemed to operate at two spectrums: just fine, or ground dust.

'You're right.' She sighed, just wanting this whole horrible day to be over.

Alistair lunged desperately at the rage demon, swinging his sword in a high arc down upon its head. The demon merely rose a fiery arm and brushed off the blow. It let out a guttural laugh that froze Alistair's blood, and quickly brought the other arm to clothesline Alistair in the torso. He was flung back, and hit the wall with a horrible crunching of metal. It was all Echo could do to fix the worst of the internal damage before the demon rushed to him again.

It was playing with him like a cat plays with a dying mouse. Echo began to feel distinctly ill. If something didn't change, everyone in the room was going to die like that foolhardy Templar hemorrhaging on the dirt floor.

_'Let me do it.'_ She said firmly. _'You're succumbing to pain and exhaustion. I can keep your body running longer, and patch it up. I can't fully use my power with you in control, I spend too much time reacting to what you're doing.'_

Alistair groaned, which could have been either "yes, go for it," or, much more likely "my lungs are being turned to ground beef." He was obviously bleeding out at this point, and too weak to stand without her help. That sounded enough like a confirmation to her.

'Hell with this shit, I'm doing it.' She shoved Alistair's presence back, and reached out to the farthest points, exerting control all the way out to the toes and fingertips.

The rage demon sensed her presence immediately, and stilled. "A Fade spirit?" it wheezed out in laughter. "My, my. I would have never thought to see one of your kind on this side of the Veil."

An ironic laugh emerged from Alistair's throat, unbidden. The taste of coppery blood filled her mouth, and she bit it back down. It was obvious that she needed to heal up Alistair's body. While conversing with a demon was always irritating, it was definitely less so than dying.

"Really, you never thought to find one of us on the other side?" She choked out, as she healed up the most vital organs first. The heart had taken some severe damage, and apparently a broken rib bone had punctured his right lung. That was going to take some time to heal, and really she'd need to find a way to get the blood out of the lung before they drowned in it.

It moved in curiously, and examined Alistair up and down. "I did not think a spirit would take a mortal body for its own." He (probably a he, anyway, demons weren't incredibly gender- conscious) leered at her in apparent self- satisfaction. "Perhaps you are more like us than you care to think, tiny spirit."

She let the insult slide right past her. It was impossible to give a crap what some putz of a demon thought of her while being in agonizing pain. With a small crack, she pushed the wayward rib bone back into place and began healing up the hole in her lung.

"No matter." The demon shrugged, a gesture so casual Echo felt her head reel a bit. "If you are here to stop me, I will dispose of you here anyway. I can always find you in the Fade to satisfy my curiosity." He raised a massive claw and swept at her haphazardly.

Echo jumped back out of the claw's way, and dropped Alistair's shield on the ground. She wasn't trained to use the damn thing, anyway. But hacking at things, she could probably do. Grasping his longsword with both hands, she loosed a torrent of her energy directly in the demon's direction.

He screeched in pain, and raised his hands to cover his head. "You will regret that, little spirit." He hissed. He leapt at her angrily, but she just covered Alistair's body with her energy. She couldn't do that for long, but it would be able to keep him from receiving too much damage while she pummeled the demon into a red gooey mess.

'I'm going to be little more than a wisp for a while after this.' She thought sadly while the demon's claws tried to rip through the armor and skewer Alistair like meat for a barbeque. The demon certainly took some nasty damage for the effort, but it took a large amount of her power to keep it at bay.

"Fuck you." She said as politely as possible as she lunged forward and coated the blade with her energy. "And fuck your little demon friends." Echo hacked at his arm, and the demon's flesh cleaved wide open with a burning hiss. The smell of sulfur bombarded her nose, and almost made her choke.

She chopped with all the grace of a one-legged lumberjack, but it was as effective as it was stupid-looking. The demon clawed pathetically at her chest, but found no purchase in her energy shield or armor. Echo brought the sword back down upon its shoulder, and the damned thing split in half like a hot knife through butter.

The lava-like substance that made of its body splashed her face, and it burned. Apparently her energy was almost gone entirely. The demon shot its undamaged arm out at her chest again, sensing the weakness, and melted through the armor.

Echo frantically dislodged the sword from the demon's torso, and stabbed it in the head. It melted into a red, odious puddle, and she noticed a faint burning feeling on her torso.

She looked down. A half-melted chestplate greeted her, along with the unmistakable smell of burnt flesh. The demon had been trying to go for the heart, apparently, but narrowly missed. That didn't mean she or Alistair were out of the woods, however.

"The other lung." She gasped out, realizing that the body was barely able to take in oxygen. The demon had managed to both destroy half of the lung, and cauterize the wound. There wasn't any leakage, but it was still incredibly damaged. She wouldn't be able to heal this. In no way was she qualified to entirely rebuild tissue. She looked up to notice that the rest of Alistair's group was surrounding her and pointing weapons. She addressed Shale directly, and hoped like hell they wouldn't slit Alistair's throat while she passed out. "Wynne." She croaked, and she thought that perhaps Shale nodded. The world spun a little bit, and she felt the tug on the familiar connection to the Fade. "Get Wynne."


	7. Chapter 7

"So, are we dead?" Alistair asked cautiously, as she lay there on the ground of the Fade and stared up into the fake sky.

"Don't know." She said shortly. "Didn't get to stay long enough to really be sure. I think you're alive, though. You haven't started to wash out like Elissa did."

Alistair froze.

"Oh, crap, I'm sorry." She groaned. "Don't be sad. How do I make you not sad?" She brought her arms over her face to shield herself from Alistair's explosion of emotions. When no blast came, she peeked out to see him sitting quietly next to her.

She sat up and hesitantly ran fingers through his hair, hoping he found the gesture as comforting as she did.

"I don't think you're dead." She said reassuringly, and Alistair grunted in response. "I had healed up the mortal wounds you had when I took over, and I told them to get Wynne." She curled in closer to Alistair and rested her head on his shoulders. She felt so tired all of a sudden, like she was moving through wet sand.

"You look exhausted." Alistair grunted gently, letting her hand fall from his head and flop onto his back. "Are you all right?"

She gave a wan smile and attempted to wiggle her fingers. "Don't worry about me, I'm maaagic." She crooned.

Alistair gave her a skeptical look and she let her hands fall into her lap. "Honestly? That wore me out. I don't think I'll be able to help you much at all anymore." Echo looked down into her ethereal hands as if searching for meaning, but found none. "And I don't know if I can really take just hanging around in your head anymore. I can't do anything, I just have to sit there and wait. I do like helping you, but…"

"It's really boring and kind of demeaning?" Alistair suggested kindly, but sounding somewhat miffed.

"I wouldn't say boring." She grimaced, thinking of all the demons and gross things Alistair appeared to be a magnet for, "or demeaning, really. It's not like I have anything better to do with my time. It's just difficult to be imprisoned in there, not able to move, or interact with anyone. I can only talk to you, I can't even touch you."

She shrugged and glanced up at Alistair. He was worrying his lip and looking not unlike a kicked puppy.

"I don't think you really need me anymore." She clarified. "At least, not with you all the time. I can just stay here in the Fade, and I can still talk with you at night while you're here. And maybe, after I recover, I can come out with you again, if you want. But right now I need rest, and you don't really need me for an election."

Alistair's face didn't change.

"Oh, stop acting like you've been dumped by your girlfriend." She poked him in the side playfully. "I still like you. I just think you can do this on your own, that's all."

"Maybe you're right." Alistair grumbled, rubbing at the spot where she'd poked him a bit dramatically. "I can probably manage to go to the Landsmeet without you, and not make a total ass of myself."

"That's the spirit." She giggled tiredly, and then yawned.

"Do spirits even sleep?" Alistair teased, moving her into a more comfortable position.

"Shows what you know." Echo yawned, "I'll have you know I'm a champion napper. World class."

"All right, then, Champion." He poked her in the cheek with his finger, and she narrowed sleepy eyes at him. "I'll probably be gone by the time you wake up, though."

"You'll probably be King by the time I wake up, Alistair." Echo murmured, curling up and pretending she was under bright warm sunlight.

* * *

Echo lazily drifted in and out of awareness, though for how long she couldn't say. Time didn't really exist in the Fade, things either were or weren't and behaved accordingly. When she finally found the strength to stand up, Echo still felt weak and ungainly. She hobbled around awkwardly, but found no dreamers or spirits in the area.

That was odd. There were dreamers the world over, there were always a few stumbling around the Fade. And in the places dreamers couldn't appear, the spirits frequented. So this was likely an area that dreamers couldn't easily access, but why weren't the spirits here?

Unfortunately, there was no one around to answer, which was the whole problem.

"Well, fucksticks." She kicked at a fake rock, which flickered at the unexpected contact. It still came out victorious when she stumbled and ended up flopping to the ground in a highly undignified manner.

She had no idea where her thoughts—well, dreams, really—had taken her in the Fade, but it didn't look to be anywhere familiar or good. Actually, for such a visually appealing place, something about it really set her hair on end. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. There wasn't a single demon or spirit in sight or even the range that she could sense, so there was really no reason-

"Why is this area so deserted?" Echo asked herself, frowning at her surroundings. It seemed nice enough. Actually, the view was rather stunning, in a subdued sort of way. She appeared to be partly up a jagged mountain lightly spotted with small bushes and flowers she didn't recognize from her time in Ferelden. Maybe a dreamer had imagined them?

_'Or maybe I'm just a second-rate botanist_,' Echo allowed.

That second thing seemed more likely. She could recognize four flowers on sight, but there were probably more.

She dismissed the thought when she flexed her bare toes and realized that there was a distinctly odd sensation below them. And between them, actually.

"Is this _sand_?" she asked herself doubtfully, bending her knee so that she could examine the tiny, soft-feeling rocks that couldn't seem to decide if it wanted to cling or slip against her skin like velvet.

It was possible to call into Being something that you had never seen. But it wasn't that likely that she had done so while unconscious or worse. So someone else was probably responsible for the fascinatingly foreign geography that she was seeing. More than a little bit curious, she followed the path. It wound up, generally, but also curled sharply around large rock structures and occasionally traipsed carelessly through cave systems without seeming to care that it would be much more practical to simply point up.

Whoever had thought this up was either an avid hiker, or simply recreating something they had already seen.

The second possibility sent a trill of unease up her spine. This looked nothing like Ferelden. She would know, she'd been watching as poor Alistair crossed half of it in his silly metal shoes for months.

_'How far away did I end up?_' Echo chewed on her lip without stopping to examine her increased propensity for mirroring body language and nonverbal communication.

This could be bad. Really bad. How could she find Alistair again if she had no idea where she was, or even how far away he was?

Echo had to frown. Why was that so important to her? He didn't need her help, exactly. Alistair was a very competent man, and he'd really been doing well lately. It had made sense for her to linger when she couldn't leave. After that, it had been what, inertia?

The ugly spotted aura that she was becoming more aware of as she traveled uphill provided a disconcerting real-world accompaniment to the thoughts she was trying not to entertain. It wasn't possible that she had wanted to stay in the world of the living just because it was enjoyable, right? That behavior was near demonic. Sure, it was much more interesting and vivid than her homeland, but that didn't mean she was exactly about to push around Alistair to make room for her in his skull.

_'Am I really certain about that?_' Echo barely noticed that the plants were becoming smaller and paler as she neared the summit. _'I mean, I was completely controlling his body at the end there. It seemed so logical at the time, but in retrospect it's a little disturbing that I would do that to a living person. It was for his good, of course, but I didn't really have permission. And what if I hadn't wanted to give it up?'_

It was hard to claim even in the privacy of her own soul that she was _certain_ she was immune to that temptation. There was a unique thrill associated with real flesh in the living world. A living body was a paradox of ghastly strength and pitiful weakness completely unlike anything in her world. There was matter in the Fade, of a sort, but not anything like the heavy, clinging stuff the mortals had.

Unnerved, Echo tried to put the self-doubt out of her mind.

"Woah." The word fell out of her mouth heavily, unbidden. The summit of the mountain was verdant and beautiful, with draping vines over elegant stone columns.

Wait. The columns looked familiar, in a way. She crept closer to the outcropping of stones and nearly tripped over more vines.

Within a few moments, it became obvious what they reminded her of.

"Tombstones." She muttered with cheer she didn't feel. Of course they were. It wasn't like she would have managed to stumble upon a beautiful, deserted paradise with Stonehenge.

And now that she really looked at the foliage, there was something a little off about it. Although it was green and healthy-looking from a distance, up close it was a sickly sort of yellow. There were growths on it that seemed shockingly similar to demonic taint, infesting and strangling the actual plant life.

Echo would have touched it, to make sure, but it didn't really seem like a good idea. She'd already probably overstayed her welcome wherever she was, and feeling up a demon's personal garden wouldn't win her favors.

Movement on the edges of her vision caught her eye, and she quickly ducked behind one of the gravestones.

A young elven woman happily plodded through the graveyard, paying no mind to her surroundings. Echo would have sneered a bit, but she'd been doing a pretty damn good version of that herself only a few minutes ago. She didn't really have room to judge.

The closer the girl got, the more familiar she seemed. Echo couldn't place her face for the life of her, however.

_'Could be an elf from the Alienage.'_ She couldn't rule that out. She'd only paid them cursory attention the one day she and Alistair were there. But then she probably wouldn't have been able to recognize them at all, right? Or maybe a dreamer she'd seen before. That seemed much more likely.

A pride demon lumbered out from the other side of the mountaintop, and Echo froze. Before she'd met Alistair, she hadn't needed to concern herself with demons. She was powerful enough to defend herself from most (if not all) of them, and uninvolved enough that they wouldn't bother to harm her in the first place.

In her current state, however, she was little more than a kitten with claws. She would barely be able to annoy a demon like this before it would crush her like a rotten fruit.

She shrunk back and clutched at the gravestone she cowered behind. She could try to save the girl, but that wouldn't end well for either of them. And the demons couldn't actually harm anyone that hadn't gone into a pact with them. They needed the connection to the dreamer's spirit to do anything so tangible.

Echo would just have to wait back and hope the girl didn't do anything stupid so that they could both leave this hellish mountain alive.

"Hello." The demon sleazed, and when the girl turned a dopey, wide-eyed look in its direction, Echo almost slapped herself. It was the same dumb girl she'd caught talking to a desire demon maybe a few months before.

_'Didn't I tell you to not do this?'_ She groaned mentally, being cognizant to not make any noise and make the demon aware of her presence._ 'It's like no one even listens. Do they like being flesh puppets?'_

Apparently, this girl had no higher aspiration in life, as she excitedly chattered about some cursed mirror to a millennia- old pride demon. It was probably the easiest sell he'd ever had, Echo reflected bitterly.

The girl did everything but actually make a contract, but Echo was sure the pride demon was just as aware that it was only a matter of time. The girl had large goals, and few options to accomplish them. She was just isolated enough to take the bait entirely, and the only thing holding her back from finishing the deal was probably an innate (and entirely reasonable) fear of dealing with demons.

"So if I need your help, I just… call to you?" The girl gawked curiously up at the pride demon's grinning face.

Echo's stomach lurched.

"Yes." The demon said, with a false hint of modesty. "When you have need of me, you cut yourself, and the blood will finish the contract. The seal I place upon you will call me to you."

So that was how they did it, Echo realized sickly. The seal wasn't something the mages truly understood, most likely. It was old, old magic. The seal indicated ownership, of course. And one of the earlier things learned about magic was that you could harm someone with a sample of their blood and exercise limited control over them with it. The more times the mages used their blood to summon a demon, the more control the demon took over them. Then, once they had enough, the demons did away with the mortal's soul entirely and absorbed it.

_'And make themselves stronger here as a result.'_ She reasoned, glad that she didn't have a body to get sick in.

And this demon certainly didn't need the boost. He was unbearably strong, and incredibly old. There was no way that Echo could allow him to leave the Fade. The amount of damage he could do to the mortal world was devastating.

She would have to remove the seal. If the girl took long enough to take the demon's offer, Echo might be strong enough to offer him resistance when he found the change.

It didn't matter, really. It had to be done, regardless of how Echo was going to fare. At least it was unlikely that she was able to be destroyed- probably. But she might end up a powerless wisp for a very long time.

As the girl hesitantly agreed to minutae of demon possession (and wasn't that a strange prospect), Echo suddenly tensed, feeling eyes on her. Horror gripped her as she met the demon's gaze, and it winked.

He'd known she was here? And since when? The demon didn't even seem troubled by her presence. In fact, it seemed to enjoy it immensely and grinned ferally when she cringed.

The girl also seemed taken aback by the demon's renewed sense of enthusiasm. She squirmed in an ill-disguised attempt to shake the terror that seemed to sieze her entirely.

The demon merely flashed more rows of teeth before disappearing. There was no noise, no puff of smoke. It merely vanished, leaving Echo and the girl alone in the clearing. The girl heaved a sigh of relief, and quickly left.

Echo felt much the same way, and followed her quarry down the mountain and through a well-hidden path to an encampment.

Large land-ships were parked in a large circle, with beautiful sails drifting down almost to the ground. They looked somehow both silky and intangible. Evidently the young woman possessed a vivid imagination, to be able to recreate her living space in such detail. Echo resisted the urge to run her fingertips along the sheets of fabric, and kept her eyes on her quarry.

The woman skipped up to one of the land-ships and clambered inside excitedly. Echo followed her cautiously, uncomfortably aware that there was still no one else in the camp.

She found the young woman scribbling on a leaf of paper. The girl was far too occupied with her task to notice Echo creeping up behind her.

_'So if I were a creepy demon, where would I put a seal on a young and impressionable girl?'_ She pondered facetiously. It was likely somewhere easily accessible, somewhere non-sex related, so the girl would feel comfortable. It was probably also covered by clothing, because it would also be able to be seen on her physical body.

That was when she noticed that the girl kept holding her left forearm up to her face and smiling. She ran her fingers along it reverently, and set her arm back down and continued to write.

_'Annnd we have a winner.'_ Echo thought, trying not to roll her eyes. This girl was certainly no spy in training, that was for sure.

Or, more accurately, the girl thought that she had safety and privacy in her own aravel in the deserted Fade, which would have normally been a valid assumption. It was just her bad luck that Echo was sticking to her like a parasite.

In any case, it would be relatively easy to find a moment to erase the pride demon's seal on the young woman's arm, while she was distracted. Hopefully, she wouldn't notice that it was gone for some time, seeing that she wore long sleeves in the first place. The young woman wasn't careless by any means, and wouldn't be checking that often, for fear someone else might notice.

Echo settled back, curiosity now piqued. This girl had been approached by not one, but two demons of considerable power. What was there about her that intrigued them?

And if they were so interested, it made it all the more important that they not be able to have her. The demons wouldn't be aware of her reduced power for some time, hopefully. Her very presence might keep most of them away. And the pride demons tended to think too much of themselves and not enough of other spirits to defend their claims. Doubtless, the demon would be laughing himself sick, thinking that Echo would never find his seal and threaten his potential host.

_'So I'll follow you for a bit.'_ She thought somewhat fondly of Alistair, and how he'd probably be proud of her for bothering to help someone that wasn't impolitely hemorrhaging on her feet.

She should probably check on him, in fact. Or send someone else to do it.

* * *

The girl (Merrill, her name was, sounded more like a name for a mouse than a person) was evidently a very sweet but entirely naive girl. She chittered to herself about fixing a tainted mirror, about saving her people, and preserving elvhen history.

She didn't evidently see the inherent hypocrisy in restoring a cursed object to somehow help her people, but there wasn't really anything Echo could do about that. Not to mention the fact that her people were decidedly against her working on the damned thing in the first place. Evidently her specific brand of well-intentioned naivety was the exception rather than the rule in her clan.

Echo was in a pretty good mood, all things considered. The pride demon, true to form, had not appeared. Most of the other demons were too afraid of him to even try to bother Merrill, and Echo kept the dumber ones at bay. Merrill was safe for now, and Echo had even managed to find time to spend with Alistair.

Apparently, being King was just as irritating as he thought it would be, but he seemed to be good at it. Mostly, they talked about random things, from his insatiable cheese lust to the strange things she saw around the Dalish camp.

He was interested in her work with Merrill, of course. She couldn't tell him everything, but she had made sure to tell him enough that he knew the inherent risk.

Alistair wasn't very happy that she could be crushed into a wispy mess by a pride demon, but he had enough respect for her to let her make that decision herself. He obviously missed having someone to talk to at all hours of the day.

Echo did feel somewhat guilty for that, but she knew time with Alistair wasn't safe anymore. The seed of doubt had rooted itself in her head and wouldn't go away. She'd never be able to forgive herself if she betrayed and destroyed Alistair. Becoming a demon would be bad enough, but she didn't want to harm him at all.

She declined his requests to come with him with grace, but accompanied him in the Fade instead. He said it helped him to sleep better, and she certainly didn't mind. He found his own way to the Dalish camp now, and curled up beside her in the long grass.

Echo sighed, pleased. This time, things were going much better. No blood magic, disappearing demons, or darkspawn in sight.

Merrill was tinkering on the ground, evidently playing with something small and shiny. Echo had learned quickly that Merrill could never sit still for even a moment. Even as she wrote, she bounced her knees and worried her lips. It was like the girl was just so excited, so full of life that it was constantly bubbling up out of her.

When Merrill raised it a bit higher, Echo noted that it appeared to be a shiny, long object that glinted and hurt her eyes. Before she even had time to register what that meant, Merrill disappeared, and the Fade instantly dimmed.

"What the what?" Echo muttered, disoriented. She looked in all directions, but nothing else had changed. Then she felt pain.

She hadn't felt pain, really, since she'd died. Even when she was in Alistair's body, the sensations had been dulled somewhat, since she wasn't really connected to his tissue. The part that was awful about it had been its long absence, and she hadn't been used to it at all.

This, however, was real pain. It tore at her chest and head, and she curled in on herself to try to hold herself together. Was this something that the pride demon had done? Had he made it so that she couldn't tamper with his seal as she'd intended, or had he just found out and set out to punish her?

She screamed, and rolled onto her side. Echo wrapped her arms around her knees, and placed her head as close to her lap as she could manage. The pain didn't subside in the least, unfortunately. It yanked her, hard, in the direction of Merrill's aravel. The land-ship creaked ominously, as if issuing some sort of threat, and Echo felt the painful force yank her again.

This time, it drug her on the ground half a meter. Echo clawed at the ground, and willed herself to hold on. The force disappeared for a few moments, but Echo didn't allow herself to relax.

This turned out to be a good call when the force pulled at her again, and drug her a meter. She was only a few meters away from the aravel now. Something was telling her that she did not want to go in there. The warning rang all through her and provided her a little strength to resist the latest pull, but she was still drug farther than the last time.

Only a few more rounds of this, and she would be done for. She was unsure of what awaited in that land-ship, but Echo knew it wouldn't be good.

Another yank, and she found herself practically on the stairs up to the door.

"Shit." She sobbed uncontrollably into the unforgiving fake dirt. "I don't want to go like this. What the hell is happening?"

The next pull was much worse than the ones previous, and she knew more than felt herself fly into the land-ship haphazardly, and a strangely familiar snap at her core that she couldn't place in her current mental state.

She felt lethargic, but the pain was gone. Echo waited and when no rushing wave of pain enveloped her, opened her eyes.

Pain flooded through her like she was being stuck by thousands of knives. Echo gasped out in agony, and became suddenly aware of pain in her knees. She pried open her eyes and looked down.

She was in a small room, covered in blood. The coppery smell filled her nostrils, and she tried to writhe away from it, but found herself far too weak. She rose her hands up to try to use her energy to force herself out of this part of the Fade.

"Hands." She murmured in confusion. "Why do my hands look so meaty?"

They were also coated in a thick layer of blood, and she could feel deep cuts along the palms of her hands. They stuck together when she closed her fists, and she could feel the drying blood cracking along the gouges in her palms as she moved them.

Then it all began to make sense.

"I'm in a body." Echo whispered fearfully, trying to take in her surroundings in light of this new discovery. The voice that warbled along with her words was familiar, but not her own.

She looked down at her legs again, to confirm her theory. She traced mailed leggings down her thighs that met with thick leather wrappings. Her feet were apparently uncovered, and felt suddenly cold.

"Shit, Merrill?" She called hopelessly. "Merrill, where are you?"

Her whole body was starting to get strangely cold. And Merrill wasn't answering.

"Ok, ok." She tried to calm herself, but wasn't terribly effective. "I'll heal her up, I'll fix the bleeding, and then she'll come back and we'll all laugh about this later, probably over tea and biscuits."

Echo clumsily healed the worst of the wounds, and had to lie down. There was so little blood in the body that she was surprised Merrill wasn't dead.

"How do you make new blood?" She wondered sluggishly, staring up at the ceiling. "I think I need to drink water, yes?"

She crawled over to a water pitcher by Merrill's bed and began to dutifully chug it down. Once it was all gone, she slumped over on the floor.

_'The heart needs the blood, we breathe in to get oxygen, the heart pumps it everywhere else.'_ She remembered dully. _'So we need to work on the heart.'_

The heart was barely moving at all, but she managed to get it pumping again with a few small bursts of her energy. Within a few minutes, she began to notice feeling returning to her fingertips. Then she started to feel warmer, and less exhausted.

She still wasn't in good condition, but it was definitely a start. Echo warily glanced at the blood spattered room and shook her head. She was in no condition to clean that right now, even though it desperately needed to be done. Merrill would have to do that tomorrow. Echo pitifully crawled up onto the bed, and collapsed there.

The body catapulted her back into the Fade almost instantly, already lost in sleep. Once in the Fade, Echo did the same, too exhausted by her earlier efforts to remain awake.

* * *

Awareness came gradually again, with a bitter and foul taste in her mouth that she couldn't explain. She moved her tongue around and encountered more awful-tasting sludge. It coated her tongue and teeth, and kept her mouth stickily shut. She forced her jaw open with a sickly cracking sound out of pure animal instinct.

The air that flooded into her lungs refreshed her slightly, but didn't taste any better. It felt stale and rotten, and Echo wearily opened her eyes.

There was… something, spattered on the wall. Brownish red, and flaking onto the floor. The floor was coated in the substance, dried up rivulets occupying the slats between the floorboards.

She didn't recognize where she was at first, but the reality of the (night? Day? How long had she been unconscious?) before washed over her like an unwelcome tidal wave, bringing both fear and revulsion.

So that was blood all over the floor, and walls, and in her mouth. Luckily it hadn't been too stuck shut, and she'd collapsed with her head to the side. If she'd fallen facing up, she likely would have choked on the blood and died again anyway.

She moved her neck, and it exploded with pain. A choked, wet-sounding gasp issued from her throat of its own accord, and she tried to stay very still to avoid further pain. She had hardly healed anything the night before, and it showed. Echo could feel deep stinging gashes, especially on her arms and hands. The stale air was suffocating, pressing down into the exposed flesh and biting at her nerve endings. Now that she had registered the initial pain, she couldn't block it out.

Maybe healing some more of the injuries was in order before assessing her situation.

The gashes on her arms were deep, but there was a deeper wound on her chest that needed to be addressed first. Echo concentrated on knitting flesh back together, but it was a slow and agonizing process. The blood was already clotted and cool, scabbing over her wounds. She had to expend considerable energy to scour the wound clean before closing it up, and the muscle tissue was now stiff and beginning the long healing and scarring process.

Echo focused on her breathing in an attempt to ignore the worst of the pain. It didn't really work, but it gave her some modicum of comfort. At least she was doing something, anyway.

The wound closed up sluggishly, but at least it was done. She lay on the bed, taking in deep breaths and quietly rejoicing in the lack of accompanying agony. In a few minutes, she would gather her strength and try to get the worst of the gashes in her arms. Her legs weren't injured at all, but she couldn't get up off the bed without the use of her arms, especially in such a weakened state. She had very little blood to go around, and being unable to eat or drink wasn't helping.

The metallic, earthy smell of blood was beginning to turn her stomach as well. She needed to heal herself as soon as possible and get back to the Fade. This mess was Merrill's problem, and not hers.

Echo managed to mostly suffocate the idea that Merrill was likely down with a serious case of being dead, in favor much-needed hope.

Didn't Merrill have any friends? Shouldn't someone notice that she hadn't left her aravel and investigate? It had been a fairly long time, by even her conservative time estimates.

Well. Waiting and praying for a rescue from strangers wasn't a good strategy, so she tabled it for the moment.

Plus, it was unlikely she'd be able to convince anyone that she was Merrill, or "Totally a really nice spirit, honest, it's just that these things keep happening to me without my consent, kind of like a Monday, you know?"

So really, that would probably be the worst thing that could happen. Unless she could feign a concussed sort of terror (and who was she kidding, feign? She couldn't roll over, for crap's sake) and then deal with it later. That sounded pretty nice. And then someone else could clean up all the blood.

Or just burn the whole damn thing down and start new, which was honestly probably a lot less work.

Echo groaned, or rather gurgled, in displeasure and irritation. This mess was going to take forever to clean up.

She was really starting to hate meat suits.

* * *

She had managed to fix the worst of the physical damage within an hour or so, and was in the lengthy process of scraping the blood off the woodwork (and wasn't that going to stain) when a confident knock sounded on the door of the aravel.

Echo froze. This wasn't how anyone should find her. She frantically piled all of the blood-soaked rags into a corner, and shoved her desk in front of it.

It didn't really hide it, and it certainly wouldn't hide the smell. She considered that for a moment. It was probably too late to start a small "accidental" fire, and the light streaming in from the skylights made it obvious that she couldn't shove the whole damn thing off a cliff and call it a loss.

So how was she going to hide… all this?

The floors were still grimy with bloody footprints, and there was blood all over the walls, ceiling, and furniture. She was positively soaked in it, as well.

_'I probably look like a serial killer.'_ She realized with dawning horror, half-aware that the door to the aravel was being gently pulled open.

"Da'len?" A soft voice called, and Echo whipped her head to the source of the sound. An elven woman was leaning into the aravel, with concern written on her face. The woman surveyed the blood-covered contents of the aravel with a keen eye, and turned back to Echo.

"What happened, da'len?"

Echo moved her mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. "Sorry, Merrill was trying to summon a big, creepy demon, but I kind of screwed that up for her and she's probably dead?" didn't sound like a winning position to take. At best, she'd think Merrill had cracked like an egg. At worst, she'd probably take her at her word and kill her.

"I told you that blood magic was an unwise choice, da'len." The woman murmured, but still didn't step inside. "Are you all right?"

It took great effort, but Echo managed to shake her head. She stumbled towards the woman haphazardly, hoping that the woman would interpret her silence positively.

When she got close, the woman suddenly grabbed at her chin and angled her face forward, moving it in the light. With her other hand, she brought a bright blue light up to Merrill's body and ran it up and down her torso carefully. After a long few moments, she addressed Echo again.

"There are no signs of demonic possession, at least. And you seem to have healed yourself well enough. Did you find what you sought?"

Echo slumped. She really doubted Merrill had gotten anything out of that exchange but a painful demise.

The woman was no longer settling for her silence. "Yes?" She pried indelicately and affixed Echo with eerie eyes.

"No," she managed to rasp. Tears welled up at the effort. "Never again."

Hopefully that would cut down on the amount of suspicion she was put under. She may not be a demon, but that didn't mean she wanted to be discovered inhabiting someone else's body. There were powerful magics that could bind or completely destroy her. Elvhen mages were likelier than most to know them.

The woman's face lightened with relief, but the caution didn't entirely leave her eyes.

* * *

Keeper Marethari watched Echo like a hawk for weeks. It wasn't that she figured out that Echo wasn't Merrill, but she did seem to be under the impression that if left unattended Merrill would drain the clan dry in order to fix a reflective hunk of glass.

Echo felt insulted on Merrill's behalf. Not to mention she didn't particularly enjoy being examined for the flaws of an entirely different person. She was a beautiful and unique butterfly, equipped with her own crippling flaws and personality defects.

_'I have to get out of here as soon as possible.'_ Echo thought in irritation, trying her best not to glare at the unfortunate hunter that had been assigned to supervise her while she did what bears do in the woods. The woman shifted her feet awkwardly, which was a surprisingly ungainly move for someone so skilled in woodsmanship.

_'She's probably making so much noise so she doesn't have to hear or think about me pooping.'_ Echo thought depreciatingly. _'There are some things I didn't miss about being corporeal.'_

It didn't help that Merrill's body was gangly and short, where Alistair's was strong and imposing. She felt more like a small collection of loosely bundled sticks than a person. Every movement took much less force than she'd gotten used to, and left her arms swinging like weathervanes while she lurched around on tiny, bare feet.

So now everything was just that much harder to deal with. She'd managed to pass it off so far as extreme blood loss and temporary damage, but she would need to figure this out soon. Echo could barely pass herself off as Merrill now, and the clan wasn't likely to continue being so forgiving. Eventually, they'd expect Merrill to get back to being Marethari's First, and stop shuffling around and gaping at everything like a ninny.

She would need to make a plan of escape, and talk with Marethari tomorrow. It wouldn't be so unbelievable that she needed a change of pace after such a traumatizing event, right?

With that in mind, she struggled to re-clapse her stupid Elvish belt buckle and rejoined her unwanted companion. They trudged back to camp silently, and Echo immediately barricaded herself into her new aravel as soon as they returned.

She needed a plan. For that, she would likely need access to Merrill's memories. Echo flopped onto the bed clumsily, and brought her arms up around her head.

Delving into Merrill's memories wasn't nearly as easy as it was with Alistair. In Alistair's head, information just jumped around as he thought of it, and she found whatever she wanted with relative ease.

If Alistair's head was a well-organized library with an attentive (if excitable) staff, Merrill's was something more like a dank catacomb of information. Instead of having things brought to her, she had to laboriously search them out and bring them to light, before blowing the dust off and reading.

Merrill really was dead, then. She had to be, to not have made her presence known in the month or so Echo had been occupying her body.

_'So I really am some sort of corpse walker.'_ Echo frowned, disgusted. _'Not how I wanted this to happen.'_

It wasn't really a revelation. The reality of her situation had been obvious since she first awoke to a blood-covered aravel with no Merrill persona to be found. She'd just ignored it until now, because it was depressing and awful.

But here in the recesses of Merrill's mind, she couldn't even ignore it. How could she? Everything felt and looked like a total mess.

At least the information was still there, though it was a cold comfort.

After a few hours of searching, Echo managed to find what she needed. She was near Kirkwall, a human settlement that had formerly been a part of the Tevinter Imperium. If she could convince Marethari that she was traumatized, and needed to go to the Alienage in Kirkwall, she could escape. If she couldn't convince Marethari, she could still run to Kirkwall anyway. It was likely a former slave-trafficking city had a few places to hide.

Merrill didn't know exactly where Kirkwall was, since the Dalish didn't go there, but she had known enough that it narrowed down Echo's path considerably. She would have to go down the mountain, and past some treacherous coastline. Since Kirkwall was on the sea, it should be relatively easy to find. Or maybe she could even see the city from on top of Sundermount?

The possibility was tempting, but the information available to her suggested that was a no-go. It had been a burial ground of sorts, and a battleground. The Veil was torn badly up there, and a dangerous place to be.

Echo wasn't anywhere near at 100% yet, and her control over Merrill's body was still laughable. She wasn't ready for any sort of combat situation she could avoid.

So she would have to try her luck going down the coastline. Merrill seemed to think there were bandits and raiders down there, so she would have to be careful there, too. But humans were much less concerning to her than demons. And she could probably sneak her way down there, even if Marethari wouldn't send a few hunters to escort her there.

And once she was in Kirkwall?

Well, Echo remembered enough of cities to know that there were plenty of places to get lost in one, if one wanted. Or if they didn't, which was more concerning. But the Alienage in Denerim had been a fairly tight-knit community, and they liked to take care of their own. If she could find Kirkwall's Hahren and convince them she was useful, she wouldn't have any problems in the Alienage.

Echo wasn't sure how she would manage to live there, as Merrill didn't have any general skills and Echo was about as culturally up-to-date as that damn Eluvian Merrill killed herself over. But that was something she could figure out later.

_'One problem at a time.'_ She promised herself, as she absent-mindedly rubbed her hands together. Tomorrow, she'd talk to Marethari and get her ticket out of this dump. Then she could think about gainful employment.


	8. Chapter 8

"You want to leave the clan?" Marethari asked, voice filled with concern. "Why would you want to do that, after all you have given for it?"

"I don't feel worthy of being your First." Echo explained, which wasn't even a lie. "After what I did, I realized that I put the entire clan in danger. I think I would like some time to help the elves in the city, to help me get back on my path."

'I think the last half of that was plain gibberish.' Echo chastised herself. 'Next I'll be telling her that I need opportunities for personal growth and want to promote synergy.'

Marethari just looked baffled, which wasn't entirely surprising. "Da'len, you would leave your people to help the city elves?"

"They're our people, too, even if they've forgotten." Echo said firmly, and hoped like hell that Marethari would stop asking questions. "I need to go to them."

Marethari's left eye twitched almost imperceptibly, but Echo saw it with the calm detachment of a spectator. "Very well, da'len. I cannot force you to stay."

"Thank y-" Echo started, but Marethari cut her off.

"That being said, I think it would be best if you waited until someone came that could take you down to Kirkwall. The Wounded Coast is a treacherous place." Marethari was clearly done talking, but Echo wasn't having any of that.

"When who comes up the mountain? Tax collectors? No one is going to come up here, and if I was truly worthy of being your First, I would be capable of going there alone." Echo said calmly, and relished the small amount of shock that registered on Marethari's face before she wiped her face blank.

"If that is your wish, Merrill, I cannot keep you." Then she let go of the tension in her shoulders, and looked at Echo with tired eyes. "Know that the clan will always be here for you, if you should ever change your mind."

Echo smiled the kindest smile she could muster for the woman. Marethari really was a good Keeper. It was just that Echo couldn't afford to stay.

"I will always be grateful for all you and the clan have done for me." She looked out over the camp. It was bustling with activity, as always, bright and colorful and oh so alive. "I just need some time."

It wasn't a lie, just misleading. To Echo, 'some time' meant something more along the lines of 'until this body becomes unusable, or something kills me, or I find a way to leave this meat bag behind and go back to the Fade.' To anyone living, that could mean anything from a month to years. So it was more of a matter of communication and differing expectations than a lie.

Marethari relaxed a little. "So, when are you thinking of leaving?"

"Probably tomorrow." Echo said quietly. "I thought it might be best to do it soon."

She nodded. "I will make some arrangements. Are you certain you will make this journey alone?"

Echo snorted lightly. "Only if you won't send the most intimidating hunters you have to escort me. Otherwise, yes, I am sure."

The Keeper nodded again, and Echo sympathetically noted that she'd seemed to age years within moments. This was surely stressful for Marethari, but Echo didn't think it would really be better if she'd found Merrill's corpse, or thought that Merrill had been possessed. Echo rationalized that this was not only the safest path for her, but the kindest alternative for the clan.

Probably.

* * *

The next morning, Echo set out a little after dawn. It would have been unbelievably stupid to try to climb down Sundermount in the dark. The jagged rocks, sudden drop-offs, and tangled flora made the descent slightly treacherous even for an experienced Dalish hunter. It was exactly why the clan's grounds were so desirable. The climb kept most, if not all, enemies at bay while the hunters lazily picked off any stragglers.

Echo wasn't afraid of slipping and breaking her neck precisely, but the thought still was less than pleasant. She picked her way down slowly and carefully, threading her way through outcroppings of rocks and tangled vines until she reached the bottom a few hours later.

She didn't even notice she had made it to the coast until a salty breeze hit her in the face and she looked up from her feet.

The sea was a writhing, swirling mass of blues and greens. It danced along the shore line, kissing the rocks and sand. Echo ran up and put her feet in the ice cold water, and it felt good on her sore feet.

She could even see the cliffs leading around the coast, where more vines draped elegantly down the sides and trees almost teetered over the edges. It was a pity that the sky in the area seemed to be perpetually grey, but it gave the coast an eerie kind of beauty.

Echo breathed in the salty air with an open mouth, relishing how the moisture seemed to wrap itself around her tongue. She exhaled slowly, and watched a small amount of air emerge from her mouth into the cold morning, before disappearing in the direction of the sun.

It felt wondrous. Was this what it was like, to be in control of your fate? She could stand here all morning and run along the sand bars, and no one could stop her. There was no more Blight to stop (or so Alistair had said, anyway), there were no obligations for her to fulfill.

At the same time, it might get somewhat boring. And Kirkwall sounded interesting. She could always come back here after looking around there for a while, couldn't she?

Yes, she could. Echo nodded to herself, pleased. She could always come back. There wasn't anyone to stop her.

* * *

She could see the walls of Kirkwall in the distance before she encountered the first group of raiders. They were stationed along the road (which she hadn't taken, because she wasn't an idiot), smoking, drinking, and watching the horizon for any unwary travelers.

Echo was less than impressed, but it was better to avoid a fight with them for today. She was ridiculously weak right now, and couldn't really spare the energy. And killing humans seemed distasteful. It seemed like most of the bandits Alistair had met had just been desperate people without any other choices, and Echo wasn't really in a position to judge mortals, anyway.

She could leave that to those stuffy Spirits of Justice.

Echo crouched down, and moved as silently as possible through the brush. Unfortunately, the coast wasn't entirely littered with shrubbery for her to hide behind. Her options were to sneak around a small group of bandits, or get up and try to run past them. They might let her go if they thought she was dangerously insane, but she rather doubted it.

So sneaking it was. Echo carefully avoided the pieces of glass, metal, and wood on the ground as she crept her way behind the first raider. He was animatedly talking with a friend about some sort of Orlesian shipment they'd waylaid, and didn't notice her slip behind his legs and around a small rock to his right. From there, she plotted her course again. There were another two or three she would have to sneak past, but it seemed doable. She just had to get through a small open section while no one was looking and dart behind the tree in front of her.

It didn't even sound easy when she was saying in her head, dammit.

Echo mentally crossed her fingers and quietly took a breath. When no raiders were facing her, she quietly and quickly crossed the small section of dirt.

By the time she reached the tree, her chosen safe spot, her heart felt like it was pounding so hard that the raiders should have noticed it. Echo closed her eyes and forced her breathing to return to normal levels. If she freaked out now, there wasn't anywhere to hide. They'd find and skewer her within seconds.

She didn't really want that. Just those last three bandits to pass and she was home free. Well, maybe not. There might be more raiders further in, but just thinking about that made Echo feel like she was covered in hives.

Echo practically crawled on the ground past the last three raiders, who all appeared to be incredibly drunk. That didn't stop them from being the most attentive of the lot.

"Hey! Wha'ssat?" One of them slurred, and Echo could smell his breath from her position four feet away. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but otherwise stopped moving. Could it be that he had noticed some leaves moving slightly? Or saw a bit of her?

"Nothin', you idiot." One of them scowled back at him, before thumping the first man on the shoulder. "I think you're just gettin' antsy. There was nothin' there the last few times you 'saw somethin' and there's nothin' there now. So just shut it!"

Or maybe the colossal idiot had just scared the crap out of her on accident. All the same, Echo made sure to move past them very quietly, and took great care not to bump into any leaves. A glint out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she quickly tracked the shine back to something on top of a crate to her left.

'Well, there isn't anybody here.' She rationalized. 'No bandits to see me. Maybe I should check it out?'

Echo crept close to the crate, and peered on top. A small pile of jewelry greeted her, glinting in the sun. It wasn't actually much, but to Echo it felt more like a dragon's hoard.

'Well hello, beautiful.' She greeted happily, before carefully placing the jewelry into her pockets so it wouldn't make noise. 'I think I may have found a new career. Always room in the thieving business, right?'

With that, she crept away back into the bushes. Hopefully, the rest of the journey to Kirkwall would be just as uneventful, but she stayed behind cover anyway.

* * *

The black gates of Kirkwall were somehow both incredibly depressing and awe-inspiring. They stood taller than anything Echo could have imagined, like someone had built them purely to assert man's dominance over nature.

And elves, apparently, she noted as she viewed the slave sculptures with a sneer. Why hadn't anyone taken those down?

'Right, elves are a lesser class of being, how could I forget.' She deadpanned to herself, and loneliness washed over her when she realized that Alistair wasn't there to respond.

Well, she could make her own friends now. If she was able to find people willing to look past that whole "possessed mage" thing.

Or maybe she could just not let them know that. That seemed like a better plan.

Keeper Marethari had given her two long daggers, along with new clothes and food for the trip. It would probably be best to use those for a while, if she absolutely had to kill anything dead. From what she'd experienced with Alistair and learned from dream-walkers before, she knew it wasn't a good idea to out herself as a mage.

And as for being a spirit? Well, that was right out. The living didn't deal well with abominations, though she was pretty sure she wasn't one.

'But isn't that what an abomination would say?' She wondered, and quickly dismissed the thought. 'Nah. Demons are always pretty proud and up front about what they are and what they want.'

It still wasn't reassuring, but it was something.

She found the Alienage pretty quickly, it was in the most impoverished part of town. Echo wandered the streets, but none of the elves seemed willing to talk with her. They took one look, and disappeared into their houses or into alleyways.

Echo didn't really like this. Being alone really sucked.

"Can I help you?" A strong female voice asked from a doorway, and Echo almost dove at the sound. A woman with vallaslin and tired eyes stared at her from a crack in the door, red hair falling into her face.

"Ah, yes." Echo fidgeted under the woman's gaze. "I was looking for your Hahren. You see, I just left the clan and I don't know where to go."

The woman sighed heavily, and rubbed her right temple with her thumb. "We no longer have a Hahren. Are you with child?"

Echo threw her hands up defensively. That had not been a question she had anticipated. "No! I just… I needed to leave." She looked at the ground and examined the well-worn path in and out of the house.

"Ah." The woman moved back into her house, and Echo heard the door closing.

She'd really screwed that up. But why wasn't there a Hahren?

The sound of something moving behind the door caught her attention, and she looked up. The door in front of her opened fully this time, and the woman beckoned her in with a sharp incline of the head.

Echo didn't need to be told twice. She scampered through the doorway as politely as possible and entered into the house.

Almost immediately, the smells of cooking and dust immediately assaulted her nose. Echo sneezed, and covered her face with the inside of her elbow. The dust tickled at her nose, and she shook her head.

"Something wrong?"

Echo turned around and shook her head primly. "No, I'm sorry." The poor woman probably thought it was a comment on her housekeeping, even though Echo couldn't care less about the state of her home. Echo could say, 'Don't worry, I lived in a blood-coated wagon for a week,' but it wouldn't really assure her that inviting Echo into her home wasn't a colossal mistake.

"I am Arianni." The woman announced politely, evidently ignoring Echo's near-complete social ineptitude. Some things were apparently constant, even after thousands of years and three skin suits.

Echo smiled pleasantly in return. She didn't want to alienate the first semi-friendly person she'd met in Kirkwall.

But this presented another problem. It was awkward and nausea-inducing to be called Merrill. It wasn't her name, it was the name of a person she'd inadvertently helped kill. Just because she was occupying Merrill's body didn't mean she wanted Merrill's identity

In fact, appropriating Merrill's life and identity were exactly what she'd wanted to avoid.

But calling herself "Echo" wasn't a great idea either. It was so obviously fake that even a city guard would laugh at her.

She didn't really know any elvhen names, though. Arianni? No, that was her name. Marethari? No. Alistair? No, this was starting to get stupid.

'It seems like 'anni' is a common suffix for a female elvhen name.' Echo thought, proud of her observational skills and incredible cunning.

So she just needed a first part to the name.

"Suranni." She inclined her head politely. That sounded like a nice name. "But my closer friends call me Echo. If you would be so kind, why is there no longer a Hahren?"

Arianni's lips thinned, and a muscle in her neck tensed.

"The Alienage is not as safe as we would like it to be." She allowed quietly. "The people of the city are, ah…"

Oh.

"Racist?" Echo suggested. "Classist? Ugly? All that, and so much more?"

"Some of them." Arianni allowed with a grim smile.

"I suppose your former Hahren isn't just retired to the country, then." Echo said flatly.

Arianni shook her head briskly, and pushed past her into the kitchen. "Anything to drink? We have water."

"Sounds lovely" she said absently, moving towards a wooden halla carving on display. She ran her fingers along the elegant lines. It was the color of honey, and smooth to the touch.

It looked like the carvings she had seen in the Dalish camp. Perhaps Merrill had had one of her own at one point, but most of her belongings had been ruined.

It was obviously the work of a master craftsman. The smoothness spoke to a few, but expertly applied shavings. There was an understated sort of beauty in its minimalism.

She ran a slender finger up the halla's horns, marveling in the detail.

"That is one of Master Ilen's works." Arianni said from the doorway, clay cup of water in hand. "You would be familiar with him, yes?"

"Yes." she acknowledged. "Are you from the Tabrae clan? I do not remember meeting you."

"Not the Tabrae clan, no." Arianni said quietly. "But I have communicated with your clan from time to time since their arrival."

"So." Echo took the proffered water gingerly and took a large sip. It was earthy-tasting, but clean. She swished it around her mouth happily before swallowing. "What's the real estate market like around here?"

* * *

Arianni had helped Echo find a home relatively close to hers. It turned out that the housing system in the Alienage was more like organized squatting than anything that resembled ownership. No one sold or bought living space. It was essentially communal living, much like living with the Dalish.

The only concern was not taking housing that was already occupied. As Arianni explained, "we take what we need, and the Alienage as a whole comes first."

Apparently she was a part of it now, whether she liked it or not. Arianni insisted on stopping by every few days with food, and a pointed (but kind) look at the dust on the wooden floors.

Echo had adjusted, even though she hated cleaning with a fiery passion.

Her new living space was bigger than she would ever need, if she was being entirely honest. It was a solitary construction near the entrance of the Alienage. Most of the homes near the Alienage gates were empty, but for Arianni and a few other elves without young children.

The fact that it was empty was odd. Echo had noticed families with up to five children living in spaces much smaller than hers.

It stank of a serious safety concern. The children and elderly lived much farther away from the gates, near the Vhenadahl. In other words, the less mobile or more defenseless citizens were protected from any undesirables entering the gate from Lowtown, which was the only obvious entrance or exit point.

It was smart, even if it was depressing. The Alienage really did look out for its own.

Echo spent hours and hours weaving through the different alleys, memorizing the many turns and various idiosyncrasies. It was a veritable maze. The obvious path could lead you right back to the gates, while another would take you all the way to the docks.

The ground was well-worn, but uneven. There were bricks sticking out that could cause someone to trip and fall, while the tall, identical dirt-colored buildings made the trip entirely disorienting.

That is, if you didn't know what you were looking for.

A small girl had taken pity on Echo and shown her the tiny markings on the walls. They were small and easily missed to the casual observer, usually carved around doorways or windows.

A circle within a triangle near a turn meant it led to safety, while a square with bars through it meant it led to the gate. A regular triangle (pointed up) led to the relative safety of the vhenadahl, and a circle led to a sewer entrance.

An intruder wouldn't stand much of a chance within those passages, but the citizens of the Alienage navigated them with the ease of familiarity.

Echo rather liked living here. These people had sense. Even if they had a particularly shitty living situation.

* * *

It was at the end of the second week that Echo heard a strange amount of noise in the middle of the night.

She'd been trying to sleep for what felt like years.

"One halla." An irritated exhale through the nose. "Two halla." Why couldn't this stupid body sleep already? She took a deep breath. Arianni told her those were supposed to calm the nerves.

"Three ha-" Was that shouting outside?

She rolled out of bed, hastily padding across her room. The Alienage tended to quiet down a little after sunset. It wasn't exactly unsafe to be out in the streets at night, but no one took any chances. Kirkwall was particularly nasty, even for a shem city.

So that level of noise was not just unusual. And it didn't sound like a party. It sounded violent.

Echo pulled on a long dress over her bed clothes, just in case she was wrong. She didn't particularly care to flash all the neighbors for anything less than an emergency.

Her staff was next to the bed and easily within reach. Another lesson from Arianni. Always keep a weapon close.

She gripped it tightly, knuckles turning white with the pressure.

This was much scarier in her own body. When she'd been in Alistair's, it felt surreal. The fights he was in couldn't hurt her.

But she was connected to the body. How close, she didn't know. Would she really die if this body did?

Would it even matter?

She shook her head to dismiss those thoughts. It wouldn't help to agonize over it. She had something to do right now. And she didn't even know if there was anything dangerous outside yet.

The shouting only grew louder, interspersed with terrified-sounding shrieks.

_'That rules out the highly unlikely, but very hopeful explanation that this was an impromptu and late welcoming party.'_ She grimaced, cracking the door open with caution. Best to know what she was getting herself into before jumping in head-first.

"Get back here, knife ear!" A man shouted, yanking on a young man's hair. The boy grunted in pain, and clawed at the open door helplessly.

"Assholes!" She growled under her breath. "And they have no taste, either. That guy is cute. And he brought me a roll yesterday."

That was two strikes against them. But she didn't play baseball.

_'Well, I like the Alienage people.'_ She reasoned. _'I wouldn't die for them, I just met them. But I suppose I can kill for them. It seems only fair. They've been very helpful to me.'_

_'Besides,' _she amended. _'I'm pretty sure that guy was flirting with me. I like him.'_

So she did just that. The nice thing about magic was that it was essentially enacting her will upon her environment, so it was relatively easy to summon up the force she needed to save her gallant prince from the admittedly unimpressive evil dragons.

The boy looked to the smoking corpses and then back at Echo. She nodded and smiled grimly back at him.

"It's fucking late." She said, rolling out her neck and shoulders. "I'm going to bed. You going to be ok?"

He nodded slowly, but provided her with a brief smile. "Thank you, Suranni." He turned awkwardly, and cringed at the sight of another smoldering pile of ash.

"Wait." Echo suddenly remembered something important. "Don't tell anyone about that, yeah? I mean, I don't mind doing it, but I'd prefer that no one busted down my door and broke my stuff. I really like my freedom."

He chuckled, obviously despite himself. Then he looked back at her and bit his lip, obviously a bit wary. "Should we clean this up?" He tried hesitantly, gesturing back to the smoking heaps on his doorstep.

She groaned. Regardless of how incompetent the city guard may be, they'd probably figure out that the ten piles of bones outside an Alienage door might be related to some disappearances. But what the hell to do with them? Ash would blow away eventually, but the bonechips weren't going anywhere without some help.

Wait.

"I've got a handle on this." She waved him on with one hand, staring distractedly at the carnage in the street. "You should go to bed. Forget this ever happened. Except if this happens again. Then call me."

He seemed to take it as a positive gesture, and smiled a little bit less stiffly before going inside his home and thoroughly bolting the door.

_'Maybe I made a friend.'_ Echo thought happily, sweeping the ash piles and bone fragments into a dustpan. _'Or maybe he'll turn me in to the Templars tomorrow.'_ She dumped the contents of the dustpan into a large flowerpot.

After all the evidence was in the pot, she grasped the bottom with both hands and lifted up. It was surprisingly heavy for mostly being dust.

She managed to haul it all the way to the edge of the Alienage, where it overlooked the sea.

_'I could dump it.'_ She considered. _'But it would be easier to just get a new flowerpot.' _She shrugged and tossed it over the side of the small cliff, watching little bits of ash fly out as it careened down into the rocky shoals below.

"Boom!" she imitated, smiling when it broke on the rocks and exploded in a fabulous fashion.

Look at her, solving problems all by herself.


	9. Chapter 9

A week came and went, and no Templars came to her door.

Another problem was presenting itself, however. She didn't have a source of income. While the elves of the Alienage were willing to help her while she got situated, that wouldn't last forever. She didn't really want to drain what little they had in either resources or goodwill.

She was perfectly capable of helping herself (and maybe even them) now. She'd finally mostly gotten some modicum of control over Merrill's body. It was reliable, at least. And she'd done well enough with those nasty humans that had come to her door, so maybe she was ready for any small fights she found herself in.

Which was good, because the easiest way she had to make money was selling the expensive things she'd stolen from those bandits.

Arianni looked oddly at her when Echo asked for a fence, but had told Echo to speak with a man that lived near the Vhenadahl. She didn't doubt the things had been stolen in the first place, and she didn't even remotely want to be connected to the bandits she'd taken them from. A semi-reputable fence (and she hoped against hope someone in the Alienage would know one) would be her best bet for a decent price with low risks.

Echo glided through the Alienage alleyways, hand on the bag under her skirt that held her treasures. It was an inconvenient place to put them, sure, but hard for a pickpocket to reach.

She found the door relatively easily, and knocked a few times. A man with short shem- style hair opened it cautiously.

"Who are you?" He asked, brow raised.

"Arianni said I should speak to you about selling something?" Echo asked awkwardly, rubbing her toes into the dirt. This was weird. Weren't these things supposed to be smooth, and sexy? She was standing here in the hot summer sun, hoping that the guy would get the picture before she was forced to act out stealing things and wanting to sell them for cash.

And now the dust was between her toes. Ew. That one was entirely her fault, though.

The man looked down at her, uncomfortable and sweaty in the dirt. He snorted quietly and smiled. "Never would have guessed." He exhaled, running his hand through his hair. "I'll need to take you to meet someone."

"This doesn't end up with me dead in a ditch somewhere, does it?" Echo asked dryly. This was sounding sketchier by the minute.

"No, of course not!" He waved his hands around defensively. "I'm just not the person you would need to talk to. But I do know him."

"Well enough to get me an audience, I'm guessing?" That sounded better. She'd prefer to never have to have this conversation again. Next time she could go straight to her local purveyor of stolen goods and cut out the middleman.

He nodded, and stepped out into the street. She followed him all the way through the Alienage and out the gate, to a shady-looking pub.

"What is that?" She pointed.

"Ah." He coughed. "It's a wooden effigy of a hanged man."

"That's disgusting." She frowned.

He coughed awkwardly again, and opened the door for her. She gingerly stepped in, and scanned the pub critically.

It was large, smelly, and dark. It also seemed to be filled with people, even though it was the middle of the day.

"Follow me." Her escort said, weaving through the crowd towards the back of the tavern.

She nearly slipped on a puddle of whiskey, but she managed to make it back to where her new friend was standing. They were outside a room, and he knocked on the door.

"Come in!" called a man's fine baritone.

'At least he sounds friendly.' Echo thought with some trepidation.

She walked in behind her companion, and clung to the doorframe. A blonde dwarf was seated at the end of a long table like a king. He had a tankard by his hand, and a stack of books to his left. He eyed her speculatively, before turning his attention to her guide.

"Tanis." He greeted warmly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Tanis (evidently) turned back to Echo with a warm smile. "I have a friend here who needs to speak with you, Varric."

Varric seemed vaguely surprised, but turned back to Echo obligingly.

"I'll see you around." Tanis said, smiling as he closed the door behind her. Echo stilled.

This was not how she imagined this happening. What was she supposed to do now?

"Take a seat." Varric gestured to a chair to his right.

That was uncanny. She cautiously made her way across the oddly large room (with a bed in a separate area, did he live here?) and sat on the chair next to him.

"So what can I help you with, Daisy?" Varric asked, taking a sip of his tankard.

She squirmed a little bit, and deftly unsecured her pouch of treasures and placed it on the table. "I needed to find someone to sell these."

He seemed unable to find a response for a moment. "…I did not see that coming." He admitted with a charming smile. "So what do you have there, Daisy?"

She pushed it across the table. If he stole it, she could probably smite him with fire before he grabbed the crossbow leaning against his chair.

He opened it and his eyes went wide. She grinned, and he looked back at her with what appeared to be a mixture of awe and interest.

"I'd ask, but I don't think I want to know." He said finally. "I can get these sold for you. Where can I send your money?"

That was something she hadn't considered. She said so.

Varric chuckled. "What's your name, Daisy?"

"Suranni." She hadn't even had to think about that this time. That was probably a good sign. "But I prefer to be called Echo."

"Well, Echo." Varric smiled warmly. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Would you like a drink?"

"Do they have anything sweet?" She asked, and Varric laughed.

"No." He said with a smile. "But they have excellent whiskey."

* * *

"Varric, you're on my shit list so hard." Echo moaned, from her position halfway off her bed. "Good whiskey, my perky ass."

That was an inaccurate statement, if only because there was no part of her that felt even remotely perky right now. The whiskey was apparently getting its revenge, because the world wouldn't stop spinning.

"Mmmpf" she mumbled expressively into her nice, cold floor. It made the pounding in her head lessen to an almost bearable dull thudding.

"Daisy." She heard Varric call from outside her house. "You there?"

"Whyyyyy." She grumbled, unable to summon either the hate or interest to go to her door.

"I'm coming in." He called. How did he sound so damn happy? She wanted to eat everything. And then throw it all up.

The door cracked open, and she mewled sadly when the light hit her eyes. It was also apparently sometime in the afternoon.

Varric chuckled. "I'm sorry, Daisy. I realized that you might not be used to that, so I brought you something." He held something out in his hand, and she slowly pulled herself off the bed and onto the floor. He placed it in her palm.

"A bottle?" She asked, disoriented. Hadn't she had enough of things to drink last night?

"Healing potion." Varric grinned. "That should pick you right up."

She quickly unstoppered it and chugged the vial. Almost instantly, her head began to clear and she felt less like she'd been thrown around in a dryer.

"Better?" Varric asked warmly.

She nodded, pleased.

Varric held out a pouch. "I also have your money for the things you brought me last night. You made about ten sovereigns."

"Is that good?" She didn't know anything about the economy here.

Varric threw his head back and laughed. "Daisy, that's excellent. It's more than most people make in a year."

"Oh." That was good.

"I guess the Dalish don't really deal in coins, then?" Varric asked with a cocked brow.

Echo wracked through Merrill's memories.

"Not really." She answered. "More of a bartering system. Like the Alienage, it's more about what the whole clan has, than one person. Money doesn't really fit into that."

"I would suppose not." Varric dropped the coin pouch into her waiting hand. "Do you feel like you're up to some work, Daisy?"

That was interesting. "What kind of work?"

"I heard that you've been helping out the locals down here with some undesirables."

Shit. Oh shit. This was bad. Maybe she really shouldn't have drank the contents of that vial.

Varric sensed her panic, and held up a hand. "Daisy, I'm a dwarf with modest needs. I don't work for the Chantry, and the only way I got that information was by endearing myself with a few of your neighbors. I'm not going to turn you in or hurt you."

"Then what do you want?" This didn't all seem clear to her yet. She'd brought him some shiny things, he'd given her shiny things in return, and now they were… what, going to save Gotham from peril?

"I just thought you'd be a good person to help me, is all." He held out a hand, and lifted her to her feet. Echo took a moment to be glad she'd fallen asleep in something decent for once. "You see, I like to help people. And sometimes people need help that requires people like you and I."

"And what are we?" She asked, licking her lips. They felt cracked and dry. She really had drunk way too much last night.

"Heroes, Daisy."

* * *

And so she found herself sort-of employed. She spent most of her time the same way, either finding books to read in her home or exploring the Alienage. But now she had nightly obligations with Varric. She would go over after the working day was almost done, and listen to him weave stories for the people that congregated in front of him at the Hanged Man. Sometimes he had jobs for her, sometimes he went with her.

But it was always pleasant. Echo found that she liked being included, provided she was able to leave if necessary.

She occasionally still found racist scum outside of her home, but after the first thirty deaths or so the harassment really dialed down. She didn't miss having to haul ashes halfway across the Alienage, but thus far killing was the only thing she was any good at.

Besides stealing, of course. Apparently being an elf was almost a disguise in and of itself. The human nobles rarely noted her coming and going, so far as she carefully avoided looking them in the face and bowed whenever necessary. Then she'd sell whatever she had (that she didn't want, anyway. They sometimes had really good booze), so Varric could sell it right back to them. Or wherever he wanted, really.

She'd had an overflow of money coming in and nothing to do with it. So she started giving it to the other people in the Alienage in any way she could.

Handing out money, while faster, was apparently impolitic. It was too much like charity instead of participating in the community, or so Arianni had informed her. But that didn't stop her from hiring people to put up a more secure gate. Or having some of the more dilapidated buildings fixed. It was looking nicer, and feeling safer in the Alienage. Echo finally really felt useful when she could see the evidence staring her back in the face.

"Daisy." Varric drawled confidently from the back of the Hanged Man as she entered for their nightly meeting. "Come over here, will you?"

"Do you have a drink for me over there?" She asked expectantly.

"Of course." He gestured for her to come to him and went back to talking with someone she couldn't see.

"Well, if he's already buying…" she muttered consideringly as she strode across the bar floor. When she arrived, she noted that Varric was talking with a trio of dark-haired humans.

"Daisy, these are the Hawkes." Varric gestured at his companions.

"Is that the name of your group?" She asked. That would be a pretty cool name.

The man in the group snorted unbecomingly. "Nah. Just our last name."

One of the women stepped forward and playfully shoved the man to the side. "I'm Catherine Hawke. This is my sister, Bethany," she gestured to the girl with the handkerchief tied around her neck. "And the lout is my brother, Carver."

Echo examined the three carefully. She could easily see that they were related, now that she was paying attention. Catherine seemed confident, and… a mage, going by the stick she carried around. And so was Bethany. Or they just really needed a lot of help walking around rough terrain.

And Carver was a swordsman. Their gear was good, but worn and battered. 'Most likely second-hand. These three aren't very old.' She catalogued.

She'd gotten better at noticing things like that since she started spending time with Varric. He liked to 'pick a mark apart'. If he could get a look at their shoes, he could tell what kind of money they'd have in their pockets.

Echo wasn't that good by any means, but she'd certainly started to pick things up.

_'Educated, judging by their speech so far. But poor.'_ So, probably refugees from Ferelden. They'd come in droves to flee the Blight. If these three had been educated here, the two mages would likely be in the Circle, and they certainly wouldn't be poor.

It took a decent amount of money to educate three children. Someone had had deep pockets at one point.

"I'm Echo." She said finally, after giving them a final once-over. "Nice to meet you."

She turned to see Varric giving her a knowing look. Echo stuck her tongue out at him slightly.

"Sorry, I'm a barbarian elf, no manners." She faux-apologized, not feeling even slightly penitent. "What did you need, Varric?"

"For you to meet them." Varric said easily, pushing a tankard of her cider her way. Varric was so sweet, he kept that around just for her. She plopped down ungracefully into her seat and took a small sip. It burnt pleasantly all the way down and warmed her stomach. She sighed happily into her tankard, and Varric looked pleased.

The Hawkes all three sat down at the table, and ordered their own drinks.

"Daisy, you remember that my brother and I are planning an expedition to the Deep Roads, right?" Varric asked jovially, before taking a pull from his tankard.

"Definitely." She acknowledged. "Your brother won't let anyone in Hightown forget. He's very loud."

He snorted a little. "Our friends here want to join the expedition."

That was interesting. "And what happened?"

"Bartrand turned us away like we were coated in mabari urine." Catherine groused, picking at a splinter on the table.

"That… is a vivid description." Echo murmured with a grimace.

Varric elbowed her lightly in the shoulder. "Because we don't need hirelings. We need a partner. There's no way we can fund this on our own."

That sounded reasonable. "All right," Echo admitted. "But I'm still not seeing where I come into this."

"This is the beautiful thing, Daisy." Varric smiled disarmingly. "Hawke is going to raise the money to become a partner. But to do that, we need people to work with us to take jobs and save money."

"And you want my help?" But why? They already had two mages. Between those two, Carver's big shiny sword, and Varric's crossbow, they'd be fine.

"Bethy here isn't so comfortable with combat." Catherine posited with a reassuring smile to her sister. "And the more the merrier, right? I mean, the less likely we are to die screaming."

"Don't go into a career in sales." Echo advised calmly. "If Varric wasn't so sweet, I would have run screaming into the night."

Varric sat back comfortably and folded his hands in his lap. "That's why I made sure your drink was here before you were."

Sneaky bastard.

She eyed him carefully as she took another sip of her drink.

* * *

I want to apologize for the confusion earlier in the week. Turns out I am old (which is news to me) and I get confused sometimes. So here is a short apology chapter.

Thanks for reading and putting up with my technological incompetence! :)


	10. Chapter 10

The jobs she occasionally ran with Hawke's crew were better-paying than the ones she could handle on her own, and the fact that she was running in a group made the work go much faster. Echo meant that in a literal sense: she could only kill so many bandits in a day on her own. But the murder crew rolled up generally four strong (with two Hawkes, Echo, and either Aveline or Varric filling out the last slot) and cut through interlopers with piteous ease.

It was quite nice, actually. The only bizarre thing was that it never seemed to make a dent in the carta or various gangs in the city.

_'Poverty breeds desperation,' Echo_ reminded herself solemnly one night after a long day out. Her muscles were aching—and wasn't that an odd thing to say? She was getting used to having a body and working around its limitations.

Working as a rogue was a lot harder on her body than using magic. With magic, she could just stand still and rain hell on whatever unfortunate happened to be on her shit list for the day.

On the other hand, working as a rogue wouldn't get her hauled ass over heels to the Circle. That seemed like a particularly undignified way to go.

If anyone asked, that was why she was sitting in her bedroom rubbing a cream scented with sweet grass into her skin. She paid careful attention to her legs and feet. Not only did they ache after hours of running about, the constant rub of her light armor left her skin dry and painful if she didn't care for it properly. Elves were terribly delicate, as far as she could tell. Nothing like Shale.

Of course it smelled nice, and made her skin wonderfully soft, but those things were beside the point. She was a serious lady with serious lady business.

A shout drew her out of her self-justifications, and she sat up on her bed and looked around. No immediate danger stuck out to her, so she got up and put her shoes back on. The other elves might not wear them, but Echo really hated getting blood under her toenails. Once was enough.

She'd just begun to think that it was a trick of her mind, or a one-off, but the clanging of metal on metal rung through the air and hurt her sensitive ears.

_'This is my fucking night off!'_

Echo grabbed her knives from Marethari (whose handles were made to channel magic, thank you very much Master Ilen, you beautiful bastard) and stomped out the door, prepared to send human bigots packing. She kicked her dustpan out the door as she went. That made the inevitable cleanup much easier. She had a system going.

What she saw was a surprise, however.

"Hawke, what the hell?" She smacked her friend in the head, and stabbed the man she was fighting with in the gut. He groaned, and slid off the long knife blade into the dirt. "It's too late for this shit. Go home!"

"Hi, Echo!" Hawke greeted pleasantly, if sounding somewhat winded.

"Daisy!" She heard Varric call. He was generally in the best tactical position, so she wasted no time in weaving over to his side to watch his back. She had to cut down a couple of chumps before she got to him, but they had had their backs turned to her and were of little consequence. He smiled genially at her, and she found herself grinning in return.

"We were supposed to do a quick pick-up down here, so we didn't think to call you." He confided. "I didn't even know we were coming into the Alienage until we met with the contact, and by the time we got here, a large amount of slavers were shouting and lobbing spells at us. Sorry for the wake-up call, Daisy."

"Slavers." Her voice sounded dangerous and flat even to her own ears. Varric gave her a consoling look.

"At least you don't have to feel bad about killing them?" He offered, shooting off another bolt into a slaver's chest. He staggered back as a bloodstain bloomed on his clothes, and held his hands to his chest. As if that would somehow stop the bleeding or lessen the severity of a mortal wound.

She tightened her grip on her knives, and used the handle to thump a slaver stupid enough to try to come up from behind her. "I suppose not." Echo said evenly. "But I'm going to need one alive. I want to know how in hell they all got in here."

Varric whistled lowly, loading another bolt into his crossbow with a mechanical sounding 'thuk'. "I don't envy whichever one you catch, Daisy."

The group of slavers that had been advancing towards them were suddenly giving her wary looks as she scanned for her first target. She grinned ferally back at them, and was gratified to see at least one of them flinch.

_'That one'll do.'_

She leapt (like a lion after sickly gazelle, her mind supplied), and dropped quickly, reaching around and slicing the backs of his knees. He fell like a puppet with cut strings onto the dirt. She jumped up quickly, and gave a kick to his ribs that made at least one of them crack.

She'd meant to keep him alive, but she'd probably kicked too hard for that. Oh well. There were more.

Another drop to her knees avoided a particularly nasty ice spear spell, and she barreled through to the offending mage. When she could see the whites of his eyes, he gulped audibly. It didn't stop her from jumping into him, propelling him into the wall behind. When his back hit the stone with a 'thud', she took advantage of his disorientation to slide one of her knives up into his heart between the ribs. He gurgled, before sliding down a bit against the wall.

"Don't you know it's rude to make this much noise at night?" She near-shouted, as she ran back at the group of terrified men. "People live here, you know!"

"Elves aren't really people." Grunted a man that Echo would be killing with extreme prejudice.

… "Tevinter shit-eating scum!" she shrieked, both knives above her head. "Fetid sack of weasels! I'm going to rip off your head and tinkle in your skull!"

Bizarrely, she heard Hawke give a choked laugh, even as the asshole she was running at apparently learned to fear. He brought his two-handed sword down just a little too slowly. She twisted out of the way and aimed for the kidney. See if he liked pissing blood for the last two minutes of his worthless life.

He apparently did not like that at all, judging by the confused gasps and the way that he kept moving his mouth up and down like a demented puppet.

She was already moving on to the next one. Who apparently happened to be the last one standing. Aveline lurched for him, but Echo cut her off with a shout and stalked forward.

"You." She pointed to the man holding his crappy sword like a life-line. "I'm going to make you eat your own fingers. And then compliment me on my excellent cooking."

He tried to run.

So she cut out the tendons behind his knees and sheathed knives.

"Don't you think that was a little-"

"No," Echo said bluntly, turning to glance at Hawke. "They're slavers. Besides, now I have to take another bath. Which you will be drawing for me, by the way. And I'm running out of sweet grass lotion."

"I've got your back, Daisy," Varric chuckled.

She blinked at him prettily, dropping the bad temper. "Oh, you're so kind. Thank you, Varric."

This was apparently the last straw for a man back near the entrance to the Alienage. She turned at a baritone laugh that washed over the area like a hot summer breeze. Strangely, the sound turned her cheeks hot. Seeing the interloper didn't help much: he was a tall, handsome elf with the kinkiest armor she'd ever seen. He tried to look graceful, but his chest was still heaving from laughing. So he settled for chucking the slaver he'd drug down the steps into a wall, and drew a large sword.

"Your men are dead." He stated clearly, pressing the blade lightly into the man's neck. A small, but steady line of blood began to drip down and stain the man's clothes.

Echo noted two things about the situation rather distantly. One, that kind of control with a sword that large was very impressive.

The second was that the bloodstain on the man's shirt was probably the least of his problems.

"Go tell your master he has failed." He twisted the sword a little bit, probably cutting a small chunk of the man's skin from his neck. Even if he lived, that would be an interesting looking scar. "I will not be captured today."

The man very carefully did not nod until the sword was removed from his flesh. Then he scarpered off into the night, holding his neck with his hand.

She watched him flee with detached resentment. Echo didn't like loose ends. Particularly not ones that knew ways into her home.

Her new favorite piece of eye candy turned to meet the group. His eyes lingered on her a moment before resting on Hawke.

_'Why does everyone think she's the one in charge?'_ Echo puzzled. _'Varric's really the one that runs everything.'_

Hawke was certainly a natural leader, though. Effortless grace, and a confidence that could shake worlds. She was at least the most conventional choice.

Besides, Echo suspected that Varric like being a bit behind the scenes, much like she did. It was probably why they both worked as rogues. Let people like Hawke and Aveline have all the glory. They'd prefer to have their peace of mind.

"I had asked Anso for help, but I did not think Anso would find me anyone so... capable." He said somewhat hesitantly, before reaching down to comb what was probably the orchestrator of the attack for something. He found something that Echo couldn't see, and his eyes hardened.

"If I may ask, what was in the house?" He jerked his head in the direction of a home Echo knew to be unoccupied. She resolved to start doing checks on abandoned homes. Slaver scum should never be able to set up camp in her Alienage.

"Nothing." Hawke answered in a voice Echo could only describe as 'soothing'. "There was nothing there." Butter wouldn't have melted in her mouth. Echo smelled a recruitment pitch coming.

He looked so devastated that Echo's heart broke for him a little. She wasn't normally this much of a chump, but he was really pretty with his white (almost silvery, like starlight) and the glowing vallaslin on his skin. He didn't look real.

"I suppose it was too much to hope for." His voice cracked a little, but everyone stalwartly ignored it. "I do have one more favor I would ask you, if I could. It appears that my former master has accompanied them to the city. I would like to confront him before he has the chance to flee."

'Probably shouldn't have let a guy go to warn him, then, yes?' Echo thought, then berated herself. He was obviously emotionally compromised anyway. It wouldn't help, and he probably wasn't thinking clearly.

Hawke shifted an evaluating gaze over the group. No one seemed to be more like a little scraped up or winded, and Bethany was just shifting aimlessly in the dirt.

_'Poor Bethany, she probably just wanted out of the house. Varric did say they thought this wouldn't be dangerous.'_ Echo went up to Bethany and nudged her hand with one of her own. Bethany smiled tightly, but wrapped slender fingers between Echo's and squeezed.

"Tough night out?" Echo whispered, as Hawke and the handsome man talked.

"We just thought it would be a pick-up for some illegal goods." Bethany shrugged hopelessly.

Echo stared. "Sounds… reasonable." No, it didn't. Bethany must have been really desperate to escape her mother's coddling. Leandra had apparently grown ridiculously overprotective after fleeing the Blight, and it was chafing at all of them. Bethany just had the bad luck of being their baby mage, and no one wanted her out of the house for fear the Templars would swoop like hungry wyverns.

She shook her head. _'I need to get out of here.'_

Before she managed to slink away into the night, Varric's eyes landed on her. She could see the moment that he put together what was going on in her head.

Echo took a step back, but he cocked a brow. She knew she was defeated before he even opened his mouth.

"Say, Daisy, why don't you come with us? You're already ready to go."

She glared a little bit, but Bethany's hand tightened around hers. The tip of a finger started making little circles on her back of her hand.

This was bad.

"And you'll get to kill more slavers." Varric wheedled, even though they both knew she was already stuck.

"What about my super-important interrogation?" She jabbed a finger at the man on the ground. He'd obviously been hoping she'd forget, and had been trying to wriggle like a caterpillar into a dark corner.

Varric shrugged. "We'll tie him up and put him somewhere safe. He'll keep until morning, at least."

Carver snorted. "Like leftover pie," he noted in an undertone. The slaver halted when the Hawke boy put a foot on his back.

Bethany shot him a mischievous look, and asked, "What would you know about leftover pie? You've never done such a thing."

He colored. "Are you accusing me of gluttony, fair sister?"

Echo deflated with a sigh, knowing she was beaten.

At least Bethany was just as unhappy about this as she was. Echo turned to her, instead of her other traitorous friends.

Ooh, and Bethany smelled nice. Like flowers. Mages rarely got covered in blood, so it wasn't surprising that she smelled nicer than Echo.

"To Hightown, then." Hawke announced, after negotiations were finished. "We're going to help Fenris find and kill a Tevinter Magister."

"Peachy." Bethany grumbled, and Echo bumped her lightly with her hip. She got a small smile for her trouble.

The trek to Hightown was fast-paced and grueling. Echo bounded along happily, aided by her longer legs and thin bone structure. Other people weren't so lucky, however.

"No one told me we would be running." Bethany panted, once they were finally outside the mansion Fenris had indicated. Being stuck inside really wasn't good for her fitness. She'd barely managed to run for a few minutes at a time. Echo wriggled her nose and avoided saying so. It would be rude, and it wouldn't help anything anyway.

And it wasn't her place to say anything in someone else's family matters, no matter how stupid she thought it was. The Hawkes as a whole were incredibly protective of Bethany. The poor girl rarely got to leave the house, and only then if she'd resorted to emotional blackmail.

"Let's just go inside." She suggested. "We don't want to waste any time."

Hawke nodded curtly, and Fenris kicked down the door.

_'Don't know if that was really necessary, but it certainly did provide some atmosphere.'_ She judged, hand on Bethany's heaving shoulder. "Let's go, pretty lady. We have butts to kick."

This fight was much easier, at least. Fenris and Carver swung their gigantic swords in circles, while Aveline bashed and hacked with her sword and shield. The rest of them just hit the stragglers, while Bethany cast healing spells on anyone that managed to get nicked.

It was less than an hour before they reached the master chambers, and Fenris was decidedly restless.

"Why hasn't he come out to fight us?" He groused to no one in particular, prowling from room to room like a madman. But there was no one there, unless you counted shades and minor demons. There were buttloads of those. They didn't really offer a challenge to a group that overpowered, though. With three warriors, a rogue, two mages, and Echo, she didn't think much short of the darkspawn horde would give them pause.

Fenris was understandably upset, and fled the mansion as soon as they confirmed that no Magisters were lurking in the area.

"Poor man." Echo said sympathetically, as Bethany confusedly watched the door through which Fenris had escaped. "He probably just needs some space."

"I bet." Carver whistled lowly, wiping his sword on a relatively clean drape before sheathing it. "How long did he say he'd been running from this scum?"

"Long enough." Hawke answered, silencing all further discussion on the matter. "Let's get going, then. I'm sure everyone's just as sore and tired as I am."

"Whiskey at the Hanged Man?" Varric suggested, and Bethany perked up. She'd rarely been able to attend that, either.

Echo stepped up before Hawke got the chance to shoot him down. "Yes, let's." She sent Varric a conspiratorial smile. "Bethany said she was pretty thirsty, I recall."

Bethany nodded quickly. "Absolutely parched, Catherine. I might collapse without something to drink."

Hawke seemed to know she'd been beaten, and Echo relished the feeling of doing that to someone else for once. They'd drug her out here, after all. Hawke owed her.

"Don't forget." She teased, poking Hawke in the side as they walked out of the mansion. "You have to draw me a bath. You're going to be up for a while."

Hawke groaned audibly, and kicked a few of the vines that clung to the outside walls of the mansion.

"That was unnecessary, Hawke." Varric said jovially. "It isn't like those vines are the ones that woke fair Princess Daisy from her beauty sleep."

A growl was his only response, because they all noticed that Fenris was leaning up against a wall down the street.

"I see you harbor vipers in your midst." He said without looking at the group entirely. "You would do well to cut them out."

"What are you talking about?" Hawke asked, exasperated. Fenris rose and stalked towards them, eyeing Hawke and Bethany.

"I saw you two casting magic in there, do not deny it." He rasped.

Bethany's shoulders slumped. "Oh, is that all?" Hawke asked breezily. "No. I don't deny it. I also recall it distinctly being none of your business."

Fenris didn't seem reassured, strangely enough.

He affixed Echo and Varric with big green eyes. _'It's too bad he's kind of a jerk.'_ Echo thought morosely. _'He really is pretty.'_

"You should watch out for them." He said darkly. "Mages cannot be trusted."

Carver took a confrontational step forward, and made a move to unsheathe his sword. Hawke just shook her head, and he relaxed slightly.

"Those are my sisters." Carver bit out. "Take care that you do not insult them."

Fenris just looked confused. "I meant no insult."

The Tevinters evidently weren't clear on manners and conversational etiquette. Echo just listed this as another reason that she'd like to bury them under ten feet of dirt, directly under "slaver assbags", and "terrible fashion sense".

Varric's lips pursed in amusement, and raised a silent eyebrow in her direction. She waggled her eyebrows a little bit, knowing Fenris couldn't see her from behind Carver. The boy was a very good meat shield. It was one of his best features.

Aveline just sighed, and rubbed her temples with her hands.

"Mooom…" Echo whined softly, and Aveline turned back to her with a chuckle. "The big kids are being mean again." Poor long-suffering Aveline.

The look she received in return was one of exasperated affection, and Aveline cleared her throat to grind the "fun" to a halt.

"That's all well and good, Fenris. I acknowledge that the mages in Tevinter are…"

"Awful?" Echo inserted, while Bethany went with "Odious?", and Varric decided upon "Murderous and weird?"

"All of those things." Aveline acknowledged. "But you'll find that the mages in our group are cut from a different cloth."

_'Aveline is scrupulously honest and considerate.'_ Echo admired. She fingered the hilts of her daggers fondly. '_Another woman would have said 'Hawke and Bethany', or mentioned me by name to be honest. She didn't sell me out, she's just letting Grumpy assume what he will.'_

He looked skeptical at best, but Varric nudged Carver aside to step into the center of attention, already projecting his 'ringmaster' personality.

"We were about to grab some drinks at the Hanged Man, if you would like to join us." He gave Fenris a warm smile.

The taller elf seemed to be wavering in uncertainty. His large eyes- oooh, and they were such a pretty green—slid over the individual members of the group, noting their closeness.

_'It would be a shame if he missed out_.' She pressed her lips together for a moment, considering. Not that she cared, or anything, but it would be lonely to be the odd man out. Maybe he just needed a little push—a gesture so he knew he was welcome and not just being invited as a formality?

"I'll pay." Echo advised. She had to amend the thought once she saw pure glee on Hawke's face. "For you. And Bethany. Everyone else actually has a job." She shot Carver a faux-disapproving look. "Mooches."

* * *

Fenris actually wasn't so bad once she got to know him. He was intelligent and driven, with a dedication to slaver murder that Echo really admired.

When the proportion of slavers wielding magic became obvious, she could certainly understand his distrust of mages. Most of his oppressors had been mages. (Although the thought was just a bit baffling, it was hard to imagine any one mage or small group of mages that could make Fenris do anything).

No matter how understanding she tried to be, Echo wasn't looking forward to when that bile was going to be directed at her. He'd figure that out eventually if they were going to be working together.

At the same time, she had no interest in 'confessing' her abilities to him, as if she was somehow obligated to answer to him. That wasn't the way the world worked. She wasn't ashamed. However understandable his mistrust, Fenris was in the wrong. She wouldn't apologize for being a mage.

(And that thought was both thrilling and frightening, when she caught herself thinking like a 'mage' instead of a 'Fade Spirit'. How much had she unconsciously acclimated to this world?)

Fenris filled out their party like he'd always been there to chop adversaries in half. He and Carver looked a bit demented, covered in gore and swinging swords bigger than her around like they were made of naught but dreams and unicorn hair.

Even with the addition to the dream team, Hawke was still on one hell of a recruitment kick. One night a pirate with fantastic cleavage drank with them at the bar. By the next morning, Isabela was working with them to clear out scum on the Wounded Coast.

Echo was quickly growing a bit bored. Between the three warriors and two regular long-distance fighters, she and Isabela barely participated in most fights. Sure, they got to finish off a straggler here and there, but that was about it.

The only thing to do was talk, and that was unappealing. Isabela apparently only had two settings: try to get in someone's pants, and mock people for perceived characteristics like Aveline's supposed prudishness. Scintillating.

That was why she was out wandering the Coast alone, barefoot in the sand. She figured that between her magic and knives, she could take care of pretty much any foe that close to Kirkwall. And she needed the stress relief. No one was stupid enough to attack the Alienage anymore, which was good. But she needed to hit things sometimes.

Fenris was always picking fights with Hawke, Carver was going through some sort of phase, Aveline was naturally bossy, and Isabella was crude.

All that added up to a very frustrated Echo, with absolutely nobody to punch in the face. It was unprofessional to attack one of her cohorts. Or that's what Arianni had said when she'd gone to vent.

It was Arianni's idea to come out here on her own, actually. Slavers occasionally patrolled the area for unwary travelers, and bandits roamed freely. Both of those groups were well within Echo's skill level, even without her irritating coworkers.

She was only out for a few hours when she found a group of slavers dragging her people in chains across the sand bars to a small group of rowboats. She didn't recognize any of their captives, but that didn't mean she was going to let the slavers get away.

She would forever deny thinking, _'Goody_,' but she was certainly going to enjoy murdering the lot of unscrupulous bigots.

Echo withdrew one of the throwing daggers Varric had been training her in, and flung it overhand. It flew in a beautiful line directly into the eye socket of the loud idiot barking out orders. It made a squishy 'thuk' sound as it connected. He wavered for a second. The corpse slowly toppled into the waters with a slapping sound. After a moment, his leather armor presumably filled with liquid and he began to sink.

It took an embarrassingly long time for his companions to react. "Hey!" One of them barked, pointing at her. "There's an escapee we missed!"

"I missed you, too, dear." She muttered, as she withdrew her specially crafted daggers and set her jaw. "I won't this time."

They rushed her, but their numbers weren't going to matter. They had clunky armor and had waded deeply into the water—their speed was pitiful. Echo chose to make her life easier, by freezing that section of the water with an ice spell. They yelped and jerked their torsos in vain to break themselves free. All that did was crackle the thinner ice, and bruise their ribs against the thick bits.

"Morons." Echo said under her breath, as she calmly walked on the ice with light feet and slit each of their throats. No mages in the lot. They might be on the boat, though.

She let the ice melt as it pleased, and waded to the elves in chains. They whimpered and whispered among themselves, but she merely froze and shattered the metal links.

"Kirkwall is that way." She said as kindly as she could manage. "If you want to wait, I can take you there. I just want to finish up on that ship, first." Echo jerked her head as what was presumably the vessel that the rowboats were intended to reach. It wasn't far away at all. Echo could probably use a chunk of mana and freeze the water it was in, too, marooning it. Then she could walk right in and wreck up the place like she wanted.

They didn't seem to know what to make of her, but that was expected. Her dripping charges huddled together along the shoreline and stared at her with caution.

"I'll be right back." She offered. "If you don't want to go to Kirkwall, there's a Dalish camp up the mountain instead. But if you want to go there, I would really recommend waiting until I get back. It's a bit dangerous to go up there alone."

They didn't move an inch.

Echo shrugged, and started freezing the top layers of water to make an ice bridge. It was slow, but fun, to slide around on the slippery ice. When she reached the ship, she froze the water all around the ship, making sure they would be unable to escape. She would have summoned a gigantic fireball, but it was impossible to be sure that there weren't any slaves still onboard.

"Honey, I'm home!" She called jovially, as she blasted the side of the ship open with a smaller fireball.

"…The hell?" A sleepy voice sounded from her right, and she turned to see a scruffy redhead rub his eyes from a cot. He began to sit up on his elbows, which made the cot waver.

It wasn't even a fight. She merely stepped over and opened his throat with a careful slash. He flopped back onto the bed and died almost immediately.

The rest of the ship wasn't that much more interesting, to be honest. To say it was a slaughter would be much more accurate, except for a mage that gave her some trouble. He was clever enough to evade her daggers, and put enough distance between them to use his magic effectively.

"Damn elf scum." He ground out, shooting off an ice spear that she barely avoided. Echo dodged the lightning bolt that came next, and ran up to close the distance. She couldn't keep fighting him like that without using magic of her own, and there were indeed other slaves on the boat. Her magic could hurt them just as easily as it could him, and that wasn't an option.

She dropped down to her knees and slid on the thick blood coating the boards, and sliced up and around as she passed under his legs.

His knees gave out, and he thudded to the ground. His face hit the wood with a sickening crack.

"I think that's all of them." Echo breathed, laboriously getting to her feet. She was sore, and had quite a few gashes. Either Marethari or Bethany could patch her up, but she couldn't do it herself. Echo (and Merrill, for that matter) didn't know shit about healing.

The former slaves (as she informed them on their way off that shitty boat) followed her all the way to the shore. Then, she summoned a large fireball and directed it onto the ship, watching it burn and sink as the ice melted beneath it.

"So, that was my plan for today." She said conversationally, turning back to her befuddled ducklings. "What would you like to do?"

Most of them elected to go 'wherever the hell she was going', but a few wanted to go to the Dalish camp. It was a long trek up the mountain, and a few more hours until a hunter appeared out of the brush.

"You've returned, First?" He asked, eyeing her followers with undisguised interest.

She shook her head. "Well, not exactly. They've escaped a life of slavery and want to live with you. I suppose you'll need to speak with Keeper Marethari?"

Marethari was thrilled to take ten or so people of Echo's hands, but significantly less so that Echo wasn't staying.

"I take it you are enjoying your time in Kirkwall?" She asked delicately, with a glance back to the Dalish camp further up Sundermount.

Echo very carefully didn't snort. "Enjoying may not be the word I would use, Keeper. But I am needed there."

Marethari just looked sad, and Echo could finally see how old she was. Too old to be dealing with her shit, apparently.

"But as I said, I have responsibilities there. So I'll be taking these lovely people back there with me, now." Echo said quickly, and turned back around.

She was vaguely surprised that none of her ducklings were getting whiplash.

They arrived in Kirkwall just before nightfall, tired and hungry. She sent them into her house while she sought out Arianni for advice. They certainly had homes for everyone. There was a surprising amount of space in the Alienage.

It wasn't as if anyone would begrudge her ducklings a fresh start.

Everyone slept in piles like puppies on her floor that night, but Arianni had them moved out and into their own homes by afternoon the next day. Echo might be very good at killing things, but Arianni was terrifyingly organized.

"We make a good team." She said, nudging Arianni in the shoulder after a long day of moving food and furniture. No one had much in the Alienage, but everyone had contributed odds and ends to make sure their new residents had something to call their own.

Arianni just rolled her eyes with a warm smile. "You're going to fill the Alienage up at this rate. We'll be bursting through seams soon."

"This was one time." Echo defended. "Besides, that would be a good thing. Maybe we could pool our money and buy an estate in Hightown. They have the nicest fruit trees up there."

Besides, filling up the Alienage was a good thing. Less likely that some of those slaver bastards could set up shop there again. Echo carefully wiped the scowl from her face, and gave Arianni a careful smile.

She doubted she'd fooled her for a second.

* * *

It was two days later that Echo stopped dead in her tracks and realized that she'd destroyed a perfectly good boat.

"Oh dear."

_'I could have been rid of the pirate_.' She cradled her head in her hands, ignoring Hawke's questions (that woman was insistent and desperate for attention, wasn't she?) and the way that Varric clapped a warm hand on her shoulder and steered her along without comment.

"I suppose she forgot to water her roses," Isabela commented archly.

Safely hidden behind her fingers, Echo rolled her eyes. That woman wasn't half as funny as she thought she was. Yes, hilarious, let's make endless comments about how everyone else is a prude and act as though everyone else is a derogatory caricature instead of a complex sentient being. So clever, Isabela. That _definitely_ made it much harder to tell that the pirate had crippling self-esteem issues and a story that didn't add up.

_'I choose to pretend that I blew up the boat because I didn't want to make her happy, not because I forgot and blowing things up is fine,_' Echo decided in the safety of her mind.


	11. Chapter 11

Echo kicked a rock with undue irritation as she took up the back of the group. Hawke had decided to haul them out to a ruin to recover some low-life criminal this time. The trek up the mountain was long. Longer than she would have liked to spend with such a large group of loud people.

"Kitten, are you all right?" Echo flinched.

Of course her least favorite person would want to talk to her. She turned awkwardly and nodded. "I'm fine, really. Just enjoying the fresh air." She lied quickly. The words rolled off her tongue easily. Echo felt momentarily guilty.

Isabela didn't seem to mind her at all. Just the contrary, all the facts indicated that Isabela liked her.

Except she didn't. She liked some sort of fictional Merrill she'd created in her mind. Isabela didn't know her at all. That was at least as much Echo's fault as hers, but Echo couldn't bring herself to spend enough time with Isabela to rectify the error.

Isabela flung an arm around Echo's shoulder and squeezed. She smelled like coconut oil and sweat. Not an unappealing combination, truth be told.

"I know, it's hard to concentrate with all these sexy men around you." Isabela purred, sending a predatory look at Carver's backside.

Echo could have lived without ever thinking about that. And Carver was a person, not a piece of meat. Granted, he was a person Echo wouldn't want to sleep with. But that was more because of his current adolescent stage and less because of any physical qualities he may or may not possess.

She hadn't wanted to think about those. Her distress must have shown on her face, because Isabela chuckled throatily. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it." She whispered into Echo's ear. "Or maybe elves are more your style? I bet you like lanky men."

Escaping this conversation was quickly becoming imperative to her psychological well-being.

But try at she might, no branches came. She would need to practice that one later.

"What are you thinking about, Daisy?" Varric sidled up with a glint in his eye. Of course he knew exactly what was going on. He just liked a little bit of friendly squirming.

"Did you know that there's Keeper magic that allows the ground to swallow you whole and spit you out somewhere else?" Echo shared in a tone of polite interest, as though this tidbit was fascinating. Fenris turned and gave her an odd look. She barely registered it as she leaned in closer to Varric's side.

"I wish I knew it." She added quietly.

Varric guffawed, and moved up closer to Hawke. She was leading their pack up to the ruins with single-minded determination.

"Why would you want to know that, Kitten?" Isabela seemed puzzled. Then the befuddlement was trumped by her inherent awfulness. She leaned in close to Echo's ear so close she nearly kissed it. The heat of her breath made Echo feel all tingly. She shivered. "Or are you afraid to admit you've noticed how tight Fenris' clothes are? Those Tevinters don't leave anything to the imagination. And Carver- oh, he's just reached that age where he's all muscled and dewy-eyed. Kitten, you must have noticed."

"What about me?" Varric interjected with false hurt.

Isabela nailed him with her best 'come hither' look. "Well, of course we've all noticed you, Varric. You're too stunning and manly to miss. Women everywhere have already elected you the most attractive man in the world. I'm just doing a survey for the other men in my life."

Oh no. She could not do this. Echo gave Aveline a despairing look. It was severe enough that Aveline came to her aid immediately with one of her stern 'looks'.

Isabela stilled for just a moment, which was a testament to just how impressively intimidating the guardswoman really was. She recovered quickly and slowly removed her arm from around Echo's shoulders, taking care to trail her finger tips along the base of her neck and all the way down her arm.

"Is there a problem?" Isabela asked. She cocked a hip to the side.

"Shut it, whore." Aveline sighed tiredly. "And stop tormenting people."

"I was just asking Echo a question." Isabela drawled. "What about you? Don't you ever take a good luck at the incredibly handsome men around us and want to take a peek?"

Aveline's cheeks grew a little red. She was getting flustered.

"Oh, look!" Echo clapped her hands and pointed off into the distance. "A distraction!"

When Isabela looked (whether out of reflex or paranoia, she didn't care to know), she grabbed Aveline's metal-gloved hand and pulled her to the front by Hawke. Isabela wouldn't do any groping where Hawke could see her directly.

"Why can't you all just get along?" Hawke sighed. She rubbed at her temples feverishly.

Echo restrained the childish urge to defend herself and remind Hawke that Isabela started it. The irritant in question was giggling at the back of the group. Instead, she stuck her tiny nose imperiously into the air. She was above such things.

* * *

They reached the summit slightly before Echo really felt the need to firebomb the whole group (non-lethally, of course. They might lose a limb, but what was a limb between friends?) and escape down the mountain. Probably using Aveline's shield as a sled.

(She'd had some time to think about her options for escape. Echo was relatively sure no one would see that coming.)

Someone ran up to Hawke and nearly barreled her over. "I'm begging you, please help me."

Wait. That voice was familiar.

"Elren?" She asked in confusion. There was quiet as the whole group turned to her. She could see the moment that he recognized her and painfully obvious hope lit up in his tired eyes. The man in question slipped past Aveline and directly into her personal space.

"I'm so glad it's you." He confessed, some of the stress lines on his face fading slightly. He tipped his head toward the cave they'd been sent to investigate, something dark in his eyes. "That man took Lia in there with him," he said in a low tone.

_'Say what now?'_

"Can you elaborate on that?" Echo was aware of how stupid she sounded. But this was apparently a situation that required more background information than she'd had.

Poor Elren rocked back on his heels nervously when the realization clicked. "I forgot you hadn't lived with us for that long." He apologized hoarsely. "This man's been abducting and killing our children for years." He grabbed her hand a little too tightly. He obviously needed the anchor, so Echo didn't say anything. Hopefully he'd let go before she lost all feeling in it. "Always girls." He added with a shiver. "And no one ever does anything about it. The guard doesn't care what happens to us. No one ever does." He bit his lip anxiously and met her eyes. The hope in them was soul-crushing. "But you do. You'll get her back for me, right? If she's already gone…"

It was like all the air had rushed out of his lungs. His entire body slumped. "I don't know if I can take it." Elren admitted quietly. "She's all I have. But if he killed her, I want you to kill him."

If Hawke didn't like it, she could shove it up her ass. "He's dead." She agreed, and squeezed his hand back. "I promise."

Elren nodded. His eyes were swimming with tears. "Just wait here." Echo advised, and gently pried his white-knuckled hands from hers. "I'll be right back." Feeling awkward at the public show of emotion, she patted his hand twice before pulling away with what she hoped was a soothing smile. "Would you like him to die slowly, or will the normal do?"

(In her peripheral, Aveline turned around slowly to stare).

"The normal is fine," he agreed with a shaky not-smile, trying to appreciate her weak attempt at humor. "I'll just… wait here, shall I?"

"I think we have to talk to the guards first," Echo explained in an undertone, carefully not looking at them. They were standing far enough away that they couldn't hear the conversation, of course, but it still wouldn't be a good idea to catch their interest.

Unspoken was that the guards would be told whatever they had to hear.

The peanut gallery was apparently far too befuddled to give her any lip as she shooed the group up to the guardsmen outside the ruin.

Hawke stepped up gracefully as soon as the brown-haired man on the right looked at Echo like she was dirt beneath his shoes. Echo was happy to let Hawke deal with him. She wasn't really in the mood to pretend subservience to racist morons right now. Or ever, really. But she'd already been running short on patience before they'd gotten here. The news just focused her general irritation and white-hot rage at a specific target.

These two were guards and there were far too many witnesses. They were too much trouble for her time.

"We've been sent by the magistrate." Hawke said smoothly, before shoving the required papers in the guardsman's face. Echo tried to hold back the sneer she felt forming on her face. Informing Hawke that troglodytes like that couldn't read was both an insult to the unfortunate illiterate and unnecessarily inflammatory. She bit the inside of her lip hard to keep the anger from spewing out.

The guardsmen argued with Hawke over the accusation that they should have followed the criminal in and apprehended him themselves.

Echo consoled herself with the fact that Aveline's face indicated these two would soon be job hunting.

When they called her people 'knife-ears', she valiantly restrained from twitching. And from killing them in the most horrifying manner she could think of.

She could think of a few that would chill the Archon's blood right now. No matter the situation, Echo had always been creative.

Echo politely waited until the nimrods had given them leave to enter before stepping inside the dusty ruin. The conflicting smells of dust and fresh blood overwhelmed her delicate senses, and she shook her head slightly to dislodge her wayward thoughts. She had a job to do, and it was much more important than a stuffy nose.

* * *

"I didn't know Kitten could do that." Isabela whispered to Varric from the far back of the group. She'd given Echo a wide berth since her rather dramatic shift in personality a few minutes ago. Isabela was currently having to re-evaluate her opinion on her normally spacy friend.

Varric shrugged non-committally. "She's been clearing out the Alienage since she moved in about eight months ago. You didn't notice that Kirkwall's Alienage is distinctly less disgusting, depressing, and blood-coated than most Alienages?"

She cocked her head to the side, thinking. Fenris' ears twitched in interest. "I did think it was odd." She admitted. "But I thought it had more to do with something else."

"Like how violence-free Kirkwall is?" Varric snorted. "No. Daisy did that. Put her own money into the place, too. I would bet you it's nicer than it has been since it was built."

"Not hard in a former slaving city." Fenris inserted. "I didn't know she was new here as well. I assumed you had known her for much longer."

"I'm just friendly like that." Varric evaded. "Daisy's a good sort. Very passionate."

"No kidding." Isabela breathed, watching Echo throw her arms up and wide with a scowl, conjure a fireball roughly the size of a dog with a blast of potent magic, and propel it into a nest of giant spiders.

Fenris just gaped, something like horror and confusion crossing his fine-boned features as he realized for the first time that Echo wasn't 'just' a rogue.

* * *

"You didn't tell me you were a mage." Fenris accused hotly as they walked down another crumbling hallway in the ruin.

Echo just reflexively blinked at him with big doe eyes. "I didn't think about it." She lied. "I rarely use it anyway."

He grunted at her with a suspicious gaze.

"You're going to supervise me now?" Echo asked. She was being more confrontational than she normally would have been, but she was already in a pretty sour mood. "And I don't recall that I report to you, Fenris. Now get out of my way, please."

Shocked, he sidestepped out of her path enough that she could lob a throwing knife into one of a spider's many eyes.

"I don't have time for your drama today." She advised with a scowl. "If you don't like it, you can wait to bother me until after I have Lia back. Your delicate sensibilities will just have to cope."

Fenris grouchily fell back to her side. Doubtless, he would be watching her intently until he'd either decided she was a "good mage" and left her alone, or a "bad mage" and tried to kill her. Echo resigned herself to at least a month without real privacy. This was going to suck a lot.

A lump at the end of the hall shocked her out of her grousing.

"Lia!" She called, shoving Fenris out of her line of sight. The lump stirred and sat up slowly. Lia rubbed at her eyes with the back of a hand.

"Echo?" Lia asked with sleepy confusion. "Why are you here?"

"That's an excellent question that I'm not going to answer today." Echo expertly evaded. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

Lia shook her head with conviction. "He didn't hurt me." She insisted. "Kelder is really nice." She fixed Echo with big soulful eyes. "He let me go. He said I was too beautiful, and he cried. I think he's really sick." A tiny hand reached up to touch Echo's. Echo pulled her up to her feet gently. Lia stood with all the gangly grace a thirteen-year-old could possess, but didn't let go of Echo's hand.

All the touching was making Echo a bit twitchy. "Promise me you won't hurt him." Lia demanded with a small amount of distress.

"The child is confused, and does not understand." Fenris' voice washed over her like a calming wave. Echo blocked out her discomfort and refocused.

"We can't promise that, Lia. If Kelder resists, we may have to hurt him." Hawke offered gently. It was lucky that one of them could muster up something close to motherly instinct. Echo certainly wouldn't win any prizes there.

Lia shook her head. "Kelder won't fight. He's kind." She insisted, and clutched Echo's hand a bit tighter.

"Why don't I take you back to your father?" Varric stepped up and offered his hand with a smile. Lia gave a hesitant look to Echo. At her nod, Lia removed her hand from Echo's and moved over to Varric. "We'll wait outside for you." He said to the group at large, before taking Lia's arm and escorting her down the hallway.

Echo watched them go with a feeling she didn't quite understand. Then Fenris cleared his throat.

"Right." She sighed. "I just want to finish this." Echo turned to walk away and let the palpable silence hang.

Only Fenris followed her into the last room. The man who could only be Kelder was sitting on the floor against a wall.

"Has my father sent you?" Kelder asked with his hooded face turned away from them.

"I don't know your father." Echo admitted, after sharing a look with Fenris. "The Magistrate sent us."

Kelder sighed heavily, but otherwise didn't move. "The Magistrate is my father." He said quietly. "I tried so hard to make him proud. But the voices, they whisper. Those girls didn't deserve to be so beautiful." He brought a hand up to his chest and squeezed it into a fist. The hand then dropped limply to the floor.

"The demons, they make me do things." He explained. "But when I went to the Circle, they said there was nothing to indicate that demons were involved."

"I doubt the Circle lied." Echo said without thinking.

Kelder shuddered. "They had to have!" His voice rose greatly in volume, and cracked. "I didn't want to hurt those girls. But they were so beautiful."

"Lia is so beautiful." He amended breathily. "When I saw her, the voices demanded that I take her and do- things- to her. I didn't want to. But I had to." His voice hardened.

"She's thirteen." Echo said flatly. "And you kidnapped her."

Fenris' feet shifted in her direction slightly.

Kelder slumped farther against the wall. It pulled his hood farther down his face and over his eyes. "I do not wish to live this way." He murmured. "I… do not want to harm Lia, or anyone else." Kelder struggled to his feet suddenly and closed the space between them.

"Kill me." Kelder asked with desperation. "It's the only way."

Fenris moved a half-step forward. "He has the right of it. Let me do it if you will not."

She was sorely tempted to let Fenris finish him. "I made a promise." She declined with a declining feeling in her stomach. "I need to finish him."

No one outside of the room would ever know if she let someone else do what she had promised. That didn't make it right. The elvhen had to take care of their own.

Kelder looked between the two of them as Echo drew one of her knives with her right hand. "It'll be quick." She advised quietly, before grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him towards the blade. It slid neatly under his ribs and through his organs.

He gurgled and Echo could feel him dying as he lost control of his shoulder muscles. Kelder's head fell to the side as his legs grew weak. She couldn't hope to hold him up even if she'd cared, so the dagger slid up through more of his body as he fell to the floor.

She pushed the lifeless body off her dagger listlessly, and stared at him for a moment.

"We should go." Fenris advised with a surprising warmness. "The others are waiting for us."

Echo leaned down and wiped her dagger on Kelder's clothes so she could sheathe it. Fenris waited until she crossed the room to the door before following her out.

She spent the long walk out of the ruin in quiet contemplation. Echo had known all along that the world operated in shades of grey. But this had been something else altogether.

Kelder had been a monster. But was it really his fault? It didn't matter if it was his fault. He had had to go.

The worst part was that she hadn't even known someone had been taken. The thought made her shiver a little, but if anyone had noticed she would swear it was due to the chilly wind pulling on her hair on the way out of the ruin.

The guards were arguing with Hawke about something within a matter of moments once it became clear that the Magistrate's son wasn't walking out. Echo didn't care. She only had eyes for the spot down the rocky path where two whip-thin figures were walking away. Elren had wrapped his arms around Lia's tiny shoulders like he was afraid she was going to disappear.

She took a careful inhalation, not noticing that the fist she'd made was uncurling at her side.

_'I can't believe I didn't even know anything was wrong. I didn't know that she was missing.'_

This would require some thinking.

* * *

A week later, Echo went to the afternoon market in Lowtown. She carefully sidestepped through the mass of people, eager to get this over with as soon as possible. The market always smelled of sweat, dirt, and spices she couldn't identify. And the people were noisy. They shouted prices over each other while customers tried to make their purchases. Echo reflexively flattened her ears against her skull in an attempt to avoid the worst of the awful clamour.

She stared at the selection of bread on display. It was a surprisingly difficult choice. Some of them looked delicious, but tasted sour. And she didn't like the hard ones either. Echo wrinkled her nose at the thought of biting into one of those.

_'Why does there have to be so many choices? I don't understand.'_

Echo finally selected a rye bread and dropped the proper amount of coins in the stall owner's hand. She turned around, adjusting the bread in her basket, and took a few small steps. When she looked up she found her face less than an inch away from a metal breastplate. A familiar one, actually.

"Are you always so inattentive?" Fenris' voice droned from above her head. Echo took a careful step back and craned her neck to blink up at him. She didn't really want to knock over the bakery display in her haste to exit Fenris' personal bubble.

"Whatever do you mean?" She asked, trying to make eye contact. It was much easier from a distance. He was far too tall for her to keep this up.

He turned his face down to meet her gaze. That was when she remembered that making eye contact with him was a bad idea. His eyes were very pretty and distracting. She'd temporarily forgotten that it was easiest to ignore him and let Varric deal with his brooding.

He shifted awkwardly, and she noticed that he still wasn't wearing shoes.

_'In this city? Ick.'_

"I walked up right behind you, and could have easily killed or robbed you." Fenris clarified with an inscrutable look. If she didn't know better, she'd say that he was sizing her up. Perhaps he was remembering that she was a dangerous mage and needed to be watched. Or maybe he just thought that people like her weren't supposed to do such mundane, unthreatening things.

_'What an odd thing to say. How does one even respond to that?'_

"Well, you didn't." She pointed out. "I'm glad for it. Is there something I can help you with, Fenris?"

"No." He said shortly. "I just thought that the problem should be brought to your attention." He stalked away gracefully and melted in with the crowd.

Echo didn't think he was really gone for even a second. He'd been observing her in 'secret' since the incident at the ruins. She rolled her eyes and resumed shopping. If he thought he was going to find out something interesting about her, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

She eyed the crowd bustling around her and sighed.

_'If he's going to stalk me like this, he could at least have offered to help me with the shopping.' _

Echo hoisted the basket to a more comfortable level and forced her way through to the stall that carried her favorite cheeses.


	12. Chapter 12

"Fenris." Echo said loudly, hand clenched so tightly that it hurt. She was sitting on the ground near the Vhenadahl, sketching a stray cat.

He obligingly (but with some surprise) appeared from the shadows of a home to her left.

"Is there something I can help you with?" She asked as sweetly as she could manage. The man was fraying her nerves. After a month and a half of silent watching and brooding, she desperately needed a break.

He shook his head and craned his neck to see what was on her paper. "A cat?" Fenris murmured, apparently baffled.

"That's what it's supposed to be, yes." Echo grunted. "But I doubt you're here to watch me draw."

Fenris leaned back against a stone structure (it was probably a pedestal for a hideous slave statue that had since been removed, but no one knew for sure) and eyed her with disinterest.

_'Oh, sure. Act like you just happened to be down in the place that you hate, watching me.'_ She mocked internally. _'Total coincidence. You haven't been spying on me or anything.'_

To be fair, this was the first she'd seen of him today. She folded up her paper and tucked it into a pocket before standing and brushing the dust off her legs. She was done drawing for today anyway.

Fenris shrugged. "Varric said he wanted to speak with you, and I wished to depart the squalor of the Hanged Man as soon as possible."

"You lost at Diamondback, didn't you."

He was surprised. Why wouldn't she know? He was smart, yes, but Isabela and Varric cheated. She should know. Echo learned from Varric in the first place.

"Perhaps." He acknowledged, looking down at his bare feet.

She put a hand on her hip, and Fenris tracked the movement. He lightly bit his lower lip.

"And how is that my fault? You shouldn't be so rude. I would have taught you to cheat, if you asked."

Fenris snorted. "I don't cheat, Daisy."

That was baffling. Daisy? Only Varric called her Daisy. Her confusion must have shown on her face, because Fenris felt the need to clarify.

"I was unsure of your actual name. Varric calls you Daisy, and the others call you Echo. I thought that woman in the Alienage called you something else. Echo seems an unkind moniker."

Oh, that made sense. She smiled a little bit, for poor socially-awkward Fenris' sake. "That's what I want to be called by. Varric just keeps calling me something else."

Fenris shrugged. "It is of little consequence to me what you call yourself. I have no right to judge you."

An odd statement, but this conversation was already taking forever. Echo slowly reached out and grabbed a gauntleted hand. His hands were surprisingly warm, even as the gauntlet scratched at her fingers.

"You should probably take me back to the Hanged Man, then." She thought about the mass of people that would be in the Lowtown market and gnawed at her own lip. "I tend to get a bit lost in crowds."

Rather, she was tiny. And unless she wanted to shank people or start hurling lightning, the crowd kind of pushed her wherever they were already going. Coming back to the Alienage was relatively easy once she broke past the worst of the crowd. But going to the Hanged Man was slightly problematic for her at this time of day. Being associated with a metallic porcupine would greatly increase her chances of getting there at a decent time.

Fenris seemed to think that this was expected, because he only expressed momentary discomfort with being touched before he quietly accommodated to her presence.

"Thank you." She meant it sincerely. Fenris wasn't usually this nice.

He merely grunted, and a woman in his direct path almost dove into a fish stand to avoid him.

"I wish I could do that." She marveled. No one liked to get in Fenris' way. Apparently being a tall, distinctive, and spiky elf had some benefits.

"You would like to be branded with lyrium?" He asked in a controversial tone.

She blinked. "Well, no, I wasn't referring to that. Is that what I feel singing on your skin?" It really did sing to her. It had taken a few days to realize why he monopolized so much of her attention. The lyrium called to the part of her that was still very much a spirit of the Fade.

It didn't explain why his voice made her feel warm and tingly, or why she really wanted to look at his eyes all the time. But that sounded like a can of worms she wouldn't be able to close, so she didn't look into it too closely.

He stopped, and looked back at her. He seemed to be searching for something in her face.

Echo didn't know if he found it, but after a few moments he stopped and turned back to the crowd. "You are a very odd woman, Echo."

_'That's kinda rich, coming from the guy squatting in a corpse-filled, dilapidated mansion.'_ She thought, but carefully did not say. She'd never seen Fenris upset, but she wasn't eager to have righteous, lyrium-fueled fury directed at her.

Instead, she focused on enjoying the way that everyone dove out of their path and pretended she was Godzilla.

* * *

"Finally here." Varric greeted, waving a mug at the back of the bar.

Echo yanked on Fenris' hand. He stayed in one place.

She turned back to look at him. "Oh, come on." She pleaded. "We were having such a good time on the way here. Besides, I didn't get to play cards earlier."

"Why would I need to be here for that?" He asked with a darkly amused voice.

She rolled her eyes and closed in on his personal space. He smelled like leather and lyrium, mixed with sweat and some underlying scent that must have been naturally his. Echo reminded herself to focus.

"Because I want to take your money." She chirped, and yanked on his hand again. This time, Fenris let himself be led back to the tables, where Isabella and Varric were lording over their piles of coins like dragons.

"He'd like to buy in again." She said, pointing her free thumb at Fenris. "And I would like to watch."

Fenris hacked in surprise. Poor man hadn't been expecting that. True to form, however, he sat down and dropped a few coppers on the table.

"Silver this time, darling." Isabella purred, and Echo felt irritation hit her like high tide.

Fenris grunted in annoyance, but found the coin necessary.

"Let me deal." Echo inserted neatly, sitting next to Fenris at the long wooden table. "You two are cheaters."

Varric winked at her, but Isabella didn't yet seem to realize Echo had the brains to cheat. "Are you sure, kitten?" Isabella asked. "Do you know how to play Wicked Grace?"

Echo blinked her eyes as sweetly as possible. "Not really." She lied smoothly, shuffling the cards with fake discomfort. "But I know enough to deal the cards."

She and Fenris cleaned them out, even if he didn't realize it. The instant the game was over, Echo swept his winnings into a pouch before Isabella could snatch them. "Here you go." She smiled, dropping the heavy bag into Fenris' eager hands. "Don't spend it all in one place."

Fenris walked away ecstatic and drunk, but Isabela was giving her a look that could peel paint.

"You cheated." Isabela purred. "I thought you said you didn't know how to play."

Echo just shrugged, and Varric clapped Isabela on the back. "Now, Rivaini, you have to think about it like this. He's won big this time, so he's got the fever. We'll get more out of him over time than we would have today."

Isabela considered this and jutted out her lip. "That's true." She concluded happily, before standing gracefully and stalking back to the bar. Doubtless to make some poor moron buy her a drink.

"That's not like you." Varric said consideringly. His smile made Echo slightly wary. "Never would have thought you'd fall for a cute face."

"He didn't manipulate me." Echo insisted, sneaking a sip out of Varric's mulled wine.

Varric chuckled. "No, he didn't. Poor man doesn't know what just happened."

"That's the way I like it." Echo stared vacantly at the fire in the corner. Then she realized something. "Hey, Fenris said you wanted to see me?"

Varric snorted. Loudly.

"No, I didn't. Broody just isn't the most socially apt, if you've noticed."

"So he accidentally got caught in a conversation and didn't know how to escape without involving you?" Echo stretched her legs out and onto the chair Fenris had occupied earlier. It felt good to lay back a bit.

He shrugged. "Probably just said the first thing that came to mind. I doubt Broody knows how to talk to people. Last week, he and Bethany had an hour long fight about the bandanna around her neck. I don't think he even knew how he started it."

_'That's sort of an accomplishment, actually. Bethany is so hard to provoke.'_

"I should probably go home, then." Of course, she didn't start to move. Varric's place was comfortable, and there was wine here.

"Probably." He agreed absently, before noticing someone at the door. "Hello, Hawke!"

"My favorite dwarf!" Hawke held her arms open wide and drawled. "And Echo!" She walked into the room and dumped her sack on the floor by the entryway.

"And me." Echo agreed, still staring into the fireplace.

Hawke came up behind her and poked the side of her face. Echo turned around enough to see Hawke not an inch from her nose.

"How come you weren't at my mother's yesterday, huh?" Hawke chided. "She hasn't seen you in forever. You need to come by."

Oh. That. The 'family dinner' thing Leandra had cooked up a month or two ago.

But it was awkward for Echo. They had family conventions she didn't know about, and discussions she couldn't contribute to.

Not to mention that Leandra had initially gone from thinking Echo was going to steal all the flatware (because she was an ELF, she heard her whisper from behind the kitchen door), to deciding that she needed all the love and affection in the world. Now Echo was some sort of 'human burden', and she honestly couldn't decide which situation she hated more.

Leandra wasn't a bad person. In fact, she was about the furthest thing from it. But she was a bit racist, even if she didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Something came up." She said blandly, and hoped that Hawke would drop the subject.

"Tomorrow." Hawke squinted at her in a fake-threatening manner. "You'll come over tomorrow. I'll stop by your house and get you in time for dinner."

Hawke left an hour or two later in a flurry of motion. Evidently she had a new sword for Carver to pick up from a blacksmith, and a million other things to do.

"I know you find those dinners uncomfortable." Varric said as Hawke bustled out the door of the Hanged Man. "But the Hawkes really love them. And Bethany wanted to know where you were, too. Girl doesn't get out much."

"It's not my fault they've cloistered the poor woman." Echo complained bitterly. "And Leandra's nice. I just-"

"Don't really like how they assume you're either a thief or completely inept, and therefore, harmless?" Varric asked with a raised brow. "You are a thief, though. I mean, nobody knows that but me. But the point remains, Daisy."

"I don't steal from people like the Hawkes." She replied archly. "I take things nobody will miss from obscenely wealthy jerks."

"I don't think the city guard makes that much of a distinction." Varric put his own legs up on a chair. He pulled his tankard closer to his chest and looked vacantly out the doorway.

She pouted. "But we do. Right?"

"Right." Varric smiled at her, and that made her feel better. "If it makes you feel better, Fenris has also categorically refused to attend."

"Why would that make me feel better?" Echo asked, exasperated.

Varric didn't reply for a long moment. He just lit a pipe with that nasty dwarven tobacco and took a long draw. "I don't know, Daisy. Just seemed like the right thing to say."

"Can you imagine how that would go if he did show up?" Echo giggled. She was definitely drunk at this point. Her insides felt warm and her mind was calm. And at some point she'd lost her shoes.

They both took a moment to picture that. Then they laughed.

"At best, I think he'd walk in, look around, and walk right out again." Varric chuckled.

Echo gripped her tankard with clumsy hands. "Those are very pretty markings." She gasped in a poor imitation of Leandra's voice.

"That would go downhill fast." Varric chuckled. "Don't look now, but Broody is back."

Sure enough, Fenris was stumbling drunkenly between tables. He was on track to make it back to them.

"He'll be here in a few hours." Echo related. "If Isabela doesn't catch him first."

Luckily for Fenris' virtue and his coin pouch, Isabela was currently being serenaded by a trio of drunken sailors. She was far too occupied and irritated to notice Fenris slinking past her and up the stairs.

"If you're back for more Diamondback, you should know I'm all done for the day." Varric said, raising his palms in defeat. Fenris just clumsily shook his head. He stumbled towards his earlier seat, and Echo barely moved them from the chair before he plopped down on it.

"No," Fenris slurred slightly. "I just didn't want to be alone in the mansion tonight."

"Need anything?" the waitress asked quietly, but Echo quickly shook her head. They'd all had more than enough. And Fenris looked three sheets to the wind. The door closed with a quiet click.

"Well, since I have a captive audience…" Varric led as he rummaged through his bag. Echo suddenly realized that she should not have let the waitress shut the door. "I'm going to have you read my newest masterpiece. Please let me know what you think of it." He passed the book to Fenris, who solemnly opened it to somewhere in the middle and squinted.

"No." He said with finality.

"It's pretty large print." Varric said with some confusion.

Fenris shook his head from side to side. "No. You read it." He thrust the book over to Echo.

"All right, then." She gently removed it from Fenris' iron grip. He stared at her with big bloodshot eyes.

"You can read it?" He asked, jabbing a metal-covered finger at the book's cover.

Echo blinked and opened it to the first page. The print was large enough that she would be all right, as long as she read slowly. "Yes, I can. Want me to read it for you?"

"Yes." He commanded imperiously, leaning back into his chair. "Read it."

She obediently brought the book up closer to her face. Varric was never going to let her leave here without having read it anyway. But she wasn't entirely cowed. She lifted her legs up and situated them on Fenris' lap. It was much more comfortable to read this way. And his body heat would warm her feet. Win/win, as far she was concerned.

"She arched her chest, as if to aid his hands' reach for the complicated fastenings on her back," She read placidly. "His fingers stumbled at first, but quickly learned how to unlace the knots without breaking their kiss. Her breath quickened in excitement as he finished unlacing her tight corset.'" She noticed Fenris' leg had gone tense underneath her foot. She looked up. He was staring at her with his mouth slightly open. His pretty green eyes did not look good framed with red, she noted.

"That's what's in these?" Fenris directed the question at Varric, voice as low as it was conflicted. The man in question looked like he was about to giggle himself to death. His tone raised just a bit in accusation. "You made her read _that_?"

"To be fair, no one made me read anything." She corrected, but Fenris still seemed pretty flabbergasted. "Does that mean you want me to stop?"

"No." Fenris refused. He stuck out his lip and pouted. "Keep reading." He placed a hand gently over her ice cold feet. As if that would keep her from going anywhere.

"Oookay." She sighed. "'Lethallin, let me help you onto the bed.' He commanded huskily- oh, that's a good word, huskily-" Varric choked a little bit. Fenris started absently rubbing circles on the bottoms of her bare feet with the pads of his fingers. "'Oh, but we must be quiet like mice.' She whispered fearfully. 'Or my Lord father will hear us.'" The rubbing momentarily stopped. Echo barely managed to keep herself from whining. It started up again with more intensity in a moment. Fenris moved his other hand to rest on her calf.

She would complain, but she was the one who invaded his personal space.

Echo cleared her throat silently. "'Oh, but my darling elfroot,' he crooned. The moonlight shone on her lover's face, and the white soft light on his vallaslin made him appear as a fey thing, wild and unknowable." A sharp laugh broke her concentration again.

She looked over to Varric, unamused. "If you don't stop cackling, how can anyone else enjoy this? Honestly."

"Take it home." Varric wheezed. "Take Broody with you."

She jumped to her feet and only wobbled a little. Echo tucked the book under arm and gallantly extended a hand to help Fenris up.

That may have been a mistake. Fenris was much heavier than she was.

She attempted to pull Fenris up. That first jerk strained the muscles in her arm. He tried next, and nearly pulled her down into his lap with a surprised squeak. "You did that on purpose." She playfully accused. Fenris just gave a boozy half-smile in return.

She added suspiciously, "That had been a joke." His smile only widened.

She jerked on his arm again. This time he stumbled forward onto his feet, and right over hers.

"Oww…" She whimpered pitifully. Fenris gave a concerned look and a reassuring shoulder nudge. It did not soothe her pain in the least.

"Next time I have to pick you up, you're getting rid of all that metal." She groused. "You're far too heavy."

Varric's background giggles grew louder.

"You want to help?" She rounded on him. Varric just waggled his tankard to demonstrate that he was entirely too inebriated to assist in any way.

"Thought so. Everyone's a critic." Fenris slipped his hand in hers with all the drunken finesse he could muster and stumbled after her out of the building.

* * *

Lowtown was always so strangely quiet at night. Others might have found that intimidating, but Echo reveled in it. It was the only time she could walk through the streets without being bumped into. And she was hardly afraid of a few mercenaries.

She took a longer route home than usual, hoping that it would clear her head a bit. Echo had been feeling strangely dizzy while in the Hanged Man. The cool night air blew into her face and tangled in her hair. It was salty and clear and good. Echo took a deep breath of it and held it in her mouth for a moment, before blowing it out.

Hot breath on her neck startled her back into the moment. It smelled of stale alcohol and made her nose wrinkle.

"Sorry, Fenris." She apologized lightly, before turning back and threading her fingers between his. If he was worse off than her, he definitely shouldn't walk all the way back up to Hightown alone. She didn't know if she was holding onto him for his sake or hers, though.

Probably his. She knew her way back home by heart.

They both stumbled a few times on their way back to her home in the Alienage. Divots and dips in the road were awfully hard to see at night, even though the moon was out. It bathed them both in white light and highlighted the Gallows out in the bay.

Echo dutifully avoided looking at it. Even moonlight couldn't make something awful like that pretty.

They crept silently past the gates of the Alienage, careful not to wake any of her neighbors. Her door opened with a creak and she beckoned Fenris to go in first. He slipped his hand out of hers hesitantly and took a few steps inside before she slid in behind him and closed the door.

"Echo."

She looked up from the locks on the door to find Fenris looking at her. The fingers on his right hand twitched a little bit.

"Yes, Fenris?" She nibbled at her lip. Was he going to say something about her home? Did he think she should have walked him all the way back to Hightown? It didn't seem practical, but drunk people rarely were.

He took a hesitant half-step forward. "Would you…"

She squinted. He wasn't holding anything out to her, but his palm was open. Echo impulsively put her hand on top of his. Fenris closed his hand and pulled her towards him, making her stumble across the floor.

Echo crashed into his chestplate in slow motion. Even though it happened slowly, it still kind of hurt.

"Ahh…" She hissed, slightly aware that this wasn't the first time tonight he'd accidentally done something like that.

"I'm sorry." He rumbled from above her. His voice made his chest vibrate under her ears. It felt comforting. And the skin she was touching was really warm.

She breathed in, and noted the same leather and lyrium scent from earlier. Something low in her belly grew warm.

_'Nope. I'm drunk. I've got to stop this, I'm acting like a ninny.'_

Echo pulled her face away from his chest and looked up at him. The fine lyrium lines on his chin seemed to almost glow in the moonlight and she found herself slightly transfixed. Then some long-dormant responsible part of her reminded Echo of her earlier statement. She gracefully grabbed his chin and pulled it down so that he was looking at her.

Which brought his mouth dangerously close to her own. Stupid. Echo tried to back up, but at some point Fenris had wrapped his arms around her back. Once her attempt had been registered he loosened his hold on her and she took a step back, hoping a little bit of distance would help her focus.

Nope. He was still pretty. Handsome? Whatever. They both applied.

"Am I doing something wrong?" Fenris asked, dropping his hands from her hips entirely. The loss of his body heat made her feel suddenly cold and vulnerable.

"What?" That last question wasn't really processing.

Fenris gestured loosely with his right arm in her direction. "Am I doing something wrong? I… I don't know how to do this."

The wheels slowly began to turn in her brain, but quickly picked up speed.

_'Oh, god. We're both idiots.'_

"Fenris, are you trying to express interest in me?" She squinted at him. It was hard to tell facial expressions in this much dark.

Her response was a grunt Fenris usually used in the affirmative.

"You're really drunk right now." Echo's right hand automatically raised to slide through her hair. She kept it at the base of her skull, and grasped at a chunk of hair. She rolled it between her fingers to help relieve some of her stress.

Fenris slowly dipped his head in acknowledgement. Silvery-white hair fell over big green eyes, and that same warmth flooded her belly. This was far more difficult than it should be. Perhaps her judgment was impaired as well. "I can't do that while you're drunk. It would be really wrong."

His adam's apple moved in a silent swallow, and he took a hesitant half-step backward.

_'I can't win. He just thinks I turned him down entirely.'_

"Ask me when you're sober, all right?"

Eyes lit up with understanding. But he didn't move. He gave a hesitant glance towards the door.

"What kind of person do you think I am? I'm not going to make you find your way to your place like this." She grabbed his outstretched hand, and he clasped onto it like a life-line. She led him to her bed. "You can sleep here for the night, I'll just curl up with some blankets."

He shuffled towards the bed and peeled off the metal gauntlets and chestpiece that attached to his armor before carefully placing them on the floor. Strangely enough, he didn't look vulnerable without them. In fact, the lines of lyrium glowing, wrapped around corded muscles made him somehow just as intimidating as before. She wanted to use other words to describe him, but she suspected that Varric's book was just putting words into her head.

Fenris didn't seem to notice her idiotic staring. He crawled onto her bed and fell asleep almost as soon as his head rested on the pillow.

_'That's… really adorable, actually.' _Echo put a few extra blankets next to the bed in case he woke up cold, and prepared her own sleeping nest out of blankets and pillows.

As she curled up under her blankets, she couldn't figure out whether she hoped this was a dream or not.

* * *

When she woke up in her blanket nest, no one was in her bed. Echo gummily blinked a few times. Fenris still didn't appear. So she resigned herself to cleaning up and finishing Varric's book. He would expect it back pretty soon.

After a few hours, she dropped by the Hanged Man to return the book to Varric. She barged into the room without checking for any other inhabitants. It was midday, so Varric was probably alone and working. "I wrote comments." She said, waving a stack of papers and dropping them in front of him on the table. "The heroine desperately needs some personality, and confidence."

Well, she'd found Fenris, at least. He just gaped at her with incomprehension. "I thought I imagined all that." He groaned, and thudded his head onto the table. Evidently his hangover was pretty fierce. Echo sympathized.

"Nope." She popped the 'p' and placed the book on top of her notes. "Have you tried a healing potion for that?"

The groan emanating from the vicinity of Fenris' head informed her that the answer was 'no'.

"I think I have one on me." She muttered, and dug through her pouches. Echo found the tiny vial in a pocket on her chest, and poked Fenris' head. "Drink it."

He obligingly downed the whole thing and put his head back down on the table.

"Is that really how I looked all those months ago?" She asked no one in particular.

Varric snorted. "You looked a whole lot worse, Daisy. He managed to make it here."

She shrugged. He had a good point. "So why didn't you give him a potion?"

Varric winked at her. "…Because you were going to make me do it." She realized. "Fenris, you're lucky you're cute."

He didn't seem to hear her. In fact, he was snoring lightly.

"Very lucky." She amended, before turning to leave. Fenris needed sleep and Varric would like the quiet to work.

* * *

Echo spent the rest of the day wandering the Wounded Coast again. It had become something of a stress relief tool for her. Even if she didn't find any slavers or bandits, she had plenty of time to experiment.

Currently she was working on something she'd seen Morrigan do. The Witch of the Wilds had been able to change forms to a number of different animals. From what Hawke had said about her mother, Flemeth, it had even more applications than Morrigan had known.

She had had Alistair ask Morrigan about it at one point. What Morrigan had shared had boiled down to "study animals. Then become them." Not very helpful, but it was probably accurate.

So Echo had spent hours of her time on the Wounded Coast, watching the local wildlife. Morrigan had intimated that animals comparable to her size were easiest to learn at first. She'd almost forgotten about it until she saw the stray cats in the Alienage. They were graceful, quiet, and quick. The form could be useful to her if she managed to achieve it. Even if she never figured out the transformation, it would be an interesting endeavor.

The wolves were interesting, and probably a good place to start. They were roughly comparable to her size, and ferocious enough to be useful.

Echo drew out their musculature on leafs of paper. She needed to know about their bodies in order to make the transition. The problem was that she was reaching the end of the studies she could complete without examining a wolf's corpse.

She didn't want to have to kill a whole pack, so she was going to have to lure one out on its own.

It was on the second day of her camp-out that a wolf finally took her bait and came out alone. A thin, quick ice spike through the head made it almost painless, and the wolf slumped to the ground.

Approaching it was unpleasant. It stank of unwashed fur, the rotting meat in its teeth, and the sour shit it'd taken in its last moments. Echo made sketches of the animal from up close. How the jaw met and curved, how many teeth it had, the number of claws on its paws. Then it was time for the messy work. She gritted her jaw and tried not to breathe in, but nothing she could do changed the sick, hot metallic smell in the air or the sensation of the pelt giving way under her knife when she made the first cut. She skinned the animal quickly, the way Alistair had shown her in her brief time with him.

The muscle patterns were nominally different from how she had imagined them. Most difficult was how the legs and footpads interacted. They were the polar opposite of human anatomy.

Then the organs had to be documented, examined, and extracted. Dogs didn't seem to have anything extra that humans or elves did not. They just had them in very different places. She examined the spinal cord and how it attached to the skull, providing wolves the ability to look in most directions. How far the eyes were apart from each other.

There were measurements taken. Then a quiet and quick cremation and ash disposal.

After it was all completed, she felt slightly sick to her stomach. She hadn't eaten in about a day. But she didn't have plans to remedy that anytime soon. But at least she was done.

Now she just had to figure out how to do the magic part.

She slunk home stinking of blood and dirt. Luckily, it was dark.

"There you are!" Announced the voice of a person she'd purposefully been avoiding. Hawke strode into view with confidence. She was in normal civilian clothes with a piece of blue bandanna tucking out of her pocket, tousled hair, and flushed cheeks.

And Fenris in tow.

_'She's in a strangely good mood for having wrangled 'Broody' all the way down here.'_ Things to ponder.

"Are we going to dinner?" Echo asked weakly, hoping that Hawke would notice how gross she was and let her be.

"Oh, yes, we are." Hawke grinned, and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. "You're not getting away this time."

Fenris made a noise.

Hawke turned back to him and he instantly quieted.

"And neither are you." Hawke said with saccharine sweetness. "Mother wants to meet you. So we're going. Now."

"Can I get cleaned up first?" Echo pleaded, holding up her hands. Hawke sniffed and recoiled.

"You'd better." Hawke turned to Fenris, who had just turned to make a speedy escape. "Fenris, you were going to let her go like that? For shame."

Fenris seemed to be reconsidering his life choices. He opened his mouth to defend himself, looked at Echo, and shut it entirely. There was no point in arguing with Hawke.

* * *

"So, Fenris.." Leandra placed yet another serving of mashed potatoes on his plate. "What do you do?"

'I'm kind of between jobs right now.' Echo poked at her own food with disinterest and mocked. 'I'm an ex-slave. Slaving is a hard business, you know. I'm looking to break into a new field with better retirement benefits.'

Fenris didn't seem to know how to answer the question either. She sympathized. Leandra didn't like what her children did for a living.

One couldn't really blame her. She'd wanted more for her kids than mercenary work. She'd probably thought they'd all have quiet and pleasant lives back in Ferelden. The instant they fought their way here, her own brother had sold her children into a year of servitude. All so that they could live in the city she grew up in.

It was little wonder that Leandra was latching onto her children so tightly. But it was just as unsurprising that her adult children were starting to pull away. They had their own lives to live. The Hawke siblings had to live in the present, where they killed people for money to pay for their family.

Leandra, by comparison, preferred to delude herself about her children's activities. If she really registered it she would probably panic and chase them further away. Carver in particular was chafing in their new family dynamic, judging by the amount of applications he had submitted to the city guard.

In Leandra's mind, Hawke's companions were now cherished family friends, because she had no other way to make them fit. So they had to have careers, and love lives. She asked after them with so much hope in her eyes that Echo found herself constantly uncomfortable.

Echo didn't want to lie to her. But lying to her was probably better than forcing her self-made walls to come crashing down around her ears. The poor woman would probably have a nervous breakdown, and Echo wasn't going to be responsible for that.

"He works with Varric and I." Echo found herself saying, before Fenris could shatter the illusion. "And he works with children in the Alienage."

Where in hell did that come from?

Fenris looked surprised, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

"He loves children." Echo shoved a spoonful of potatoes into her mouth so she wouldn't have to answer any follow-up questions.

That seemed to satisfy Leandra, and she beamed at Fenris.

"That's excellent, Fenris." She praised. "Women love men that are good with children."

Fenris gave a stiff, practiced smile and fiddled with his gauntlets under the table. He seemed to have realized that his best chance of making it out of here without being maimed was to be very quiet and let Leandra make her own assumptions.

"So, Echo."

She smiled with her mouth closed and chewed at her potatoes exaggeratedly, but Leandra just waited with a kind smile on her face. Echo swallowed in resignation.

"So, how is your work as First?"

"Well, there aren't really Firsts in the Alienage." Echo explained awkwardly. "That position only exists in the Dalish clans."

Leandra nodded and tucked that piece of cultural information away for further use. "So, what does a First do, exactly?"

Even Fenris seemed to be looking at her with interest.

She restrained the urge to run her hands through her hair. Only barely.

"A First is an apprentice to the Keeper of the clan." She twisted her ankle around to pop the joint and carefully put her hands in her lap, lest she start twitching out of embarrassment. "The Keeper is our leader, they decide where the clan goes and take care of everyone."

"So you're going to be Keeper of a clan, then?" Leandra asked with some surprise. "Catherine didn't tell me that."

This was a terrible idea. "I don't think so." Echo allowed, staring at a knot on the wooden walls. "I left the Dalish to help my people in the Alienage."

"Did the Keeper say you couldn't come back?" Leandra was surprisingly interested in this conversation. For the second time in two months, Echo wished she knew the Keeper magic that could suck her out through the dirt floor.

"No." She hedged. "I just…" She bit her lip hard enough that it hurt. "It's complicated. But thank you for asking, Leandra."

Leandra was about ready to say something when Hawke walked into the room and quickly assessed the situation. "Echo will be fine, Mother." Hawke slid an arm over Leandra's shoulders and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "But I think they both need to go home now. It's pretty late, and I bet they both have something to do in the morning."

Echo gratefully leapt up to give Leandra her mandated hug and escape to the relative safety of her own home. She made it as far as the doorway before a look from Hawke made her linger just outside. Fenris slowly but gracefully stood from his seat and followed them out after kissing Leandra's hand politely.

"Thank you." Hawke whispered to them both after she shut the door. "I think she really needed that."

"It was my pleasure." Echo replied somewhat sincerely. Even if the conversation and all the feelings made her feel uncomfortable, Leandra meant well. And the food was excellent.

Fenris just grunted in assent and put a gauntleted hand over his stomach. Leandra had decided he was far too thin, and had stuffed him accordingly. "I think I should go home now." He allowed with a careful look at them both. "Are we meeting tomorrow?"

"Only if you want to." Hawke shrugged. "There's news of a Fereldan Grey Warden in the city. I need to find him so we can get their maps of the Deep Roads."

"Sounds interesting." Echo muttered with false disinterest. Her mind was racing. But the only Fereldan Warden she knew was Alistair, and even she would know if the King of Ferelden was in Kirkwall. Maybe it was Justice in Elissa's body? It would be nice to see a familiar face. "Where are you meeting, the Hanged Man?"

"Yes." Hawke nodded distractedly. "Early in the morning. I have no idea how long it will take. How do you know someone's a Grey Warden, anyway?"

"Darkspawn taint." Echo supplied automatically.

They both looked at her with obvious interest. She shrugged.

"Is this one of those things that the Dalish just know?" Hawke asked with squinted eyes. "Or just you?"

"Just me." Echo chirped, and bounced down the stairs away from Hawke's home. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hawke! Have a good night, Fenris."

Hawke blinked in confusion as she watched Echo skip away towards the Alienage.

"Does that happen often?" Fenris asked, evidently struggling to keep all his food down. He swallowed audibly and groaned lowly from the back of his throat.

Hawke snickered. "You can tell Mother no, you know. If you don't, she'll just keep doing that. I think she thinks that all elves are just too skinny for their own good."

Fenris eyed her warily and edged towards the stairs. Hawke sighed. "Just go home, Fenris. Will we see you tomorrow?"

"Maybe." He grunted, and strode away into the night. Hawke just shrugged. It wasn't any of her business what Broody did and didn't do.

* * *

So I may have (definitely) based Leandra off of my stepmother. That was exciting.

I posted two chapters at once, so if you didn't read Chapter 11, you should probably go back and do that.


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